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silverlightqueen · 4 years

Text

Filter - Part 2

‘There are so many sides to him, it’s hard to keep track.’

fratboy/jock!Jimin x cheerleader!reader - e2l, smut, a n g s t, comedy, fluff

Part of ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo!

Rating: 18 (graphic sex and mature themes)

Word Count: 16.6k+ (she’s a monster omg I’m so sorry)

Warnings - bad language, humiliation (not during sex - he just embarrasses the hell out of her in public), alcohol, drug consumption, explicit discussion of sex, locker room sex, y/n being a brat again, jimin being a dick again (but worse,,,so much worse), dom!jimin, sub!y/n, teasing, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, tit fucking, tit slapping, Jimin’s monster cock makes a return, praise, explicit dirty talk, mild degradation, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, standing sex, asphyxiation, y/n and jimin argue again (multiple times), Jimin is literally the worst human being on earth in this omg I’m sorry for making him terrible, somehow I ended up putting a comment on society and the patriarchy (?) at the end but we go with it, girl power! and if your kpop boy is in this, he’s trash (unless he’s Stray Kids Minho, the only male character in this that deserves rights)

a/n: unedited lol and this really didn’t go the way it was supposed to, but I don’t hate it so here ya go, enjoy! I think in this lockdown, I’ve really started to,,,,hate men and it shows in this fic so I’m sorry to any boys that might be reading this lmao. but anyway thank you to the loml @silverlightprincess for proofreading this, you’re the best hype girl ever, luv u xoxo (and I promise I’ll work on The Other Half for you and @brinnalaine ) lmk what you think of it, I legit thrive off praise lol x

Read Part 1 first !!!

also I got the banner off google so credit to whoever made it (it has no relevance to the story but it matches the colour scheme so we roll with it lmao)

silverlightqueen masterlist

‘Good afternoon, everyone, and thank you so much for coming. We really appreciate the turn-out, and we’re super excited to see your try-outs! Today is going to be quite simple; we’ll start by speaking to you one-by-one to see the range of movements that you can do. Not everyone on the squad has to be able to fly and tumble, so don’t be worried if you can’t do certain flips or jumps – we try to include people of all abilities as long as the raw talent is there, and you’ll be able to learn a lot if you make the squad. Once we’re aware of what you can do, we’ll group you into smaller groups and teach you a simple routine, a slightly different one for each group. We’ll watch you perform the routine as a group after some practice time, and then we’ll assess your Cheer ability one by one, just a couple flips and jumps and things like that. If you really would rather not do them by yourself, that’s okay. Just let one of the squad know, and we’ll pair you with someone else who feels the same. We understand that some of you may not feel confident enough to perform in front of everyone else by yourselves. And it’s okay if you don’t have much confidence, because that’s something we will work on and help you to improve if you make the squad. Does anybody have any questions?’

Dozens of hopeful faces smile back at me, not one hand rising to ask a question, and I smile back. I was nervous about my first time doing this, speaking in front of everyone as newly elected Cheer Captain, but having the rest of the squad behind me makes me feel better. ‘Okay, great. If you could get into four lines in front of each of the seats at the desk, we’ll get started!’ I say excitedly. Irene, Jisoo, Chen and Jihyo (the most responsible people on the squad) are sat behind the desk to write down what people are able to do, the others on the squad dotted around to help if anyone needs it, and all the people here to try-out head over to the desk. I take a moment to take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, and I tilt my head back to feel the sun on my face. The weather’s lovely today, warm and sunny with a slight cool breeze, perfect for cheer try-outs, and the turf of the pitch is healthy and green, not yet ruined by the studs on the bottom of the players’ football boots (training doesn’t start ‘til next week).

‘y/n, relax, babe. Everything’s going well, you did a good job,’ Jennie says from behind me, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder, and I nod. ‘Yeah, I know. It’s just… being Cheer Captain, it’s big boots to fill.’ ‘I know, but you’ve got all of us helping you out. You know we’re all here to support you. Stop stressing yourself out,’ she says, and I turn to smile at her. ‘Thank you, Jen.’ ‘Don’t thank me, because now I’ve got bad news,’ she says, looking reluctant to speak, and I side-eye her. ‘What?’ ‘We have spectators.’ ‘We always have spectators.’ ‘That’s not what I meant,’ she says, turning me to look over to the bleachers which are a few metres away. And when I spot a group of ASP boys sat there, watching us and waving when I look over, my heart nearly stops. ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding,’ I mutter, putting my hand up to shield my eyes from the sun and see them properly. And of course he’s there. Of course he is.

I haven’t seen him since a week ago today, when I ran out of his room while he was fast asleep and did the most talked about ‘Walk of Shame’ at school in the past year. All week, everyone’s been talking about me and Jimin, and somehow the rumours have spiralled out of control. My friends have reported back that they’ve heard that Hoseok and Namjoon joined us when they walked in on us, that I left before Jimin could finish, that I cried and begged him to let me cum (which my friends have denied on my part despite it being kinda true) and that I left wearing no underwear and flashed everyone on my way out. And that’s not even the worst of the rumours. I’ve tried not to comment on it when people have asked me, and it seems Jimin’s stayed quiet too – I’m sure it would’ve been hot news if he’d said anything.

I woke up the next morning aching, my entire body sore and weak (I really have no idea how I managed to leave the frat house on my feet – it must have been the adrenaline). My neck, jaw and chest were covered in purpling marks, some of them in the shape of his rings, and my waist and ass were covered in dark painful bruises from his tight grip and the endless spanking (the marks and bruises are all still there, by the way, fading but there – I had to cake the makeup on top of them this morning to cover them in my skimpy cheer kit). It hurt to sit down for too long, but it hurt to walk too, so I spent all of Sunday lying down, Jennie nursing me back to health (as she calls it – in reality, she just microwaved some soup for me, and we binge-watched Netflix in bed together). My body isn’t used to intense sex like that because not many university boys are as good at sex as Jimin is. I hate to admit it, but I’ve been zoning out all week (during lectures and seminars, when I was with my friends, at the gym, whilst studying or watching TV, when I was trying to fall in sleep, whilst showering, etc.) thinking back to mind. And I hate it – I hate him. I used to think of him with irritation and borderline rage, but now… the thought of him turns me on. It’s infuriating. I haven’t even gone over to get my stuff – not even my favourite bra (it was sexy and comfy, lacy with no underwire) – for fear of falling back under his stupid spell and getting into his bed again.

When my eyes meet his, it’s like he knows that I’m wet, a small smirk playing at his glossy lips as he runs a vascular hand through his jet-black locks, silver rings glinting in the sunlight. He looks fucking gorgeous, in a pair of loose black slacks and a loose orange shirt, a simple but flattering outfit, with his silver earrings, rings and bracelets. And the irritation inside me pushes down the arousal, and I turn away angrily, hearing their laughter over my shoulder as my eyes meet Jennie’s. ‘I can go speak to them if you want?’ she offers weakly, and I sigh. ‘There’s nothing we can say; they’re allowed to be here. We’re just gonna have to ignore them,’ I say, and she nods, throwing an arm over my shoulders and leading me towards the table.

I oversee the proceedings, making sure everything’s going well, my mind still elsewhere, but after a few minutes, the noise they’re making is unbearable. They’re loud – laughter and shouting echoing around the pitch – and it’s starting to distract the squad, and the people here to try-out. ‘Should I go tell them to shut up?’ Jennie asks, and I nod, reluctant to go over myself. She walks over, hands on her hips, and I know she’s gonna give them hell. But then I start to doubt that when I see them laughing and joking with her, before she comes back over, my expectant gaze being met by her sheepish one. ‘Well?’ I ask, and she winces. ‘They said they don’t take orders from me – only from… the Cheer Captain,’ she says slowly, and I let out a noise of irritation. Jimin being an annoying, difficult, stupid dickhead, I can understand. The others? I thought they were my friends. But obviously they find this whole situation more amusing than anything. It’s not funny for me – I slept with the guy I’m supposed to hate the most! The guy that I do hate the most.

‘I really don’t want to go over there,’ I admit, and Jennie’s eyes soften with sympathy. ‘You don’t have to, y/n, don’t feel pressured. We can cope with their noise – it’s fine, babe,’ she says reassuringly, but I feel guilty. I remember how nervous I was at try-outs, and having a group of rowdy frat boys laughing and shouting every few seconds definitely wouldn’t have helped. It’s up to me as Captain to create a comfortable environment, and with them around, this isn’t comfortable at all. I sigh, shaking my head, before I say, ‘I’ll go.’ ‘Are you sure?’ she asks, and I nod, dread building up inside me. ‘Want me to come with?’ ‘No, you just stay and keep an eye on things.’

I begin walking over, eyes fixed on the ground, and I can literally feel their eyes on me, their anticipation practically palpable. Everyone sat around the pitch is whispering, watching, desperate to see Jimin and I interact after all the rumours of the last week, and I can feel it all, making my nerves build up with every step. When I’m a few feet away from the bleachers, I look up, my eyes instantly meeting his, and I stop, staring at them for a moment. He’s endlessly amused, the smirk on his lips unbearably irritating. ‘Hey, y/n,’ he says easily, a ripple of laughter running around the group, and I don’t reply, matching his light gaze with a hard stare of my own. ‘This isn’t funny, guys, and I would’ve thought you’d know better. How do you think they’re gonna feel when they’re doing their routines and you morons are laughing? None of you can do what they’re doing, not in a million years, so don’t you dare come and sit here to rub my personal life in my face without even thinking of how rude and disruptive you’re being. You should be ashamed,’ I say neutrally, not letting any emotion into my voice, because if I do, I’ll lose my temper completely like I did last week and end up screaming at them. The other boys have the courtesy to look embarrassed of themselves, but Jimin just continues to smirk at me, running his thumb over his plump lips. My insides churn with anger at him being such a dick, but I don’t say a thing, waiting for one of them to reply. ‘Sorry, y/n. We didn’t think,’ Jin says, apologetic, and the others mutter apologies too, all except Jimin. ‘Don’t apologise. Just shut up,’ I reply before turning on my heel, walking away and ignoring the indiscernible whispers and stifled laughter.

‘Whatever you said, it definitely worked,’ Jennie says, and I nod curtly, still pissed off. ‘You okay?’ she asks, and my shoulders slump. ‘No. I’m supposed to be the Captain, I’m supposed to be nice and smiley and kind, and now I’m just angry, because of them, because of him,’ I sigh tiredly, and Jen looks at me sadly before putting an arm around my shoulders. ‘Don’t let them get you worked up, babe – today’s important, okay? Just focus on the try-outs,’ Jennie says, and I nod, trying my best to let my annoyance go, but it’s easier said than done. I wait impatiently for the first part of today to be done, desperate to have something to do so I can distract myself. And as soon as the last person has finished speaking to Jisoo, I call for everyone’s attention, telling them to start warming up. I sit down with Irene, Jisoo, Jihyo and Chen, and we quickly put people in similar-ability groups, based on the notes that the four of them have made whilst speaking to them; potential flyers, bases and spotters, and tumblers. The routines aren’t too different – just to test their dancing ability, and to see if they have the kind of body control needed for their different positions.

Once we’ve grouped them, Irene reads out the groups, the flyers with Lisa and Seulgi, bases and spotters with Kai, and tumblers with Momo, the rest of the squad supporting. I take a seat at the desk, making notes on people who catch my eye (they’re all wearing little name stickers, so I send Jennie over to find out their names). Jiwon, the pretty sophomore from last week, is really good – her dancing is great, and she’s light on her feet, the perfect flyer. I’m already certain she’ll make the team, because she’s super smiley and energetic too (I wave at her when I catch her eye, and she waves back excitedly, huge smile on her face). Watching them all learning the dances, making notes, evaluating them, it gets me in the zone. Focusing on this, I’m in my Captain mindset, having completely forgotten about the stupid disruption earlier. There’s definitely some potential here, and I have no doubt we’ll do really well at Nationals this year – I’ll be pissed if we don’t come first (and I’ll also be the first Captain in ten years that doesn’t lead us to victory, which is a pretty big deal).

Once they’ve learnt their dances, we split each group in half so there are less people to focus on, and they perform the dances to us. They’re all quite good – there’s a couple people who, bless them, will definitely not make the team, and I feel bad, but I have to be ruthless. It’s my job to make sure I give us the best chance at winning. We give them a little break after they’ve performed, and we all sit together to compare notes. We’ve pretty much all put the same people down, but we can’t make any final decisions until we watch them do their Cheer moves. ‘Okay, is everybody ready?’ I ask after getting their attention. ‘We’re going to have a look at your moves now. So they’re pretty basic, nothing too strenuous. Can someone show them what they’ve got to do?’ I say, turning to face the squad, and before anyone can speak, Kai says, ‘y/n, you should. You’re the captain after all.’ I return his mischievous grin with a hard stare, but the others all give various agreements, pushing me to show them. ‘I haven’t even warmed up,’ I mutter, everyone laughing.

‘Okay, we’ll start with a basic standing split. So, you just lift your leg, whichever your better leg is, and bring it right up like this, with your arm in front of it, and hold it there for a few seconds,’ I say, my left leg up against my body, my right arm holding my foot above my head. It’s a little painful because I haven’t warmed up, but I’ve done this move enough times that it’s pretty easy. I hear applause a little distance away, knowing it’s those stupid boys, and then everyone trying out starts clapping too, making me drop my leg and laugh embarrassedly. ‘Okay, thanks, guys, you can stop now,’ I say lightly, and everyone starts laughing. I show them all of the other moves – a full split, a pike jump, a toe touch jump, a hurdler jump, a front flip, a back flip and an aerial, getting applause for each movement, triggered by our idiot spectators. ‘So we’ll call you up one-by-one, unless you’ve asked us to go with someone else, and we’d like you to a show us a clasp, a high V, a T motion, and then go into the moves that you’re confident with. Show us your personality – we want bright and bubbly people on the squad, so don’t be afraid to chant or whatever, if you want to,’ I say as I take my seat behind the desk, Irene, Chen, Jihyo, Jisoo and Jennie sat with me, the rest of the squad sat around on the grass, enjoying the warmth and just watching the proceedings.

After a couple of people, it starts to get repetitive, but I remain focused, knowing I need to pay attention to differentiate between the good and the great. Jiwon is fantastic – she’s making the team without a doubt. Once they’re all done (nearly two hours later), I call them all over to sit beside the desk. ‘Thank you all so much for coming, and well done. What you did takes a lot of courage and you should all be so proud of yourselves, whether you make the squad or not. We’ve got your details from earlier, so we’ll be in contact within the next couple days to let you know if you made it. Thank you, and you are free to go,’ I smile, all of them letting out expressions of gratitude as they get up, heading to the bleachers to get their stuff and go. ‘Jiwon!’ I call, the girl turning to look. ‘Can I have a word?’ I say, the girl telling her friends to wait for her as she walks towards me. I head over to her, and we meet in the middle of the pitch, with no-one around. I don’t want anyone to hear and accuse me of favouritism.

‘Hey, y/n.’ ‘Hi, Jiwon. You did a really good job, definitely shone through. You’re fantastic,’ I say, and she smiles shyly. ‘Thank you. I have been cheering for a long time, though, so I did have an advantage,’ she says humbly, and I wave it off. ‘Don’t give me excuses – just accept the compliment. Anyway, I probably shouldn’t say this, but you caught a lot of our eyes, Jiwon. I’m pretty certain you’ll make the squad. First practice is next Saturday, 2 ‘til 4, and we’re just gonna do an introductory session, get to know one another and have a proper look at what everyone can do. Make sure you’re on time, and ready to try out some stunts. And work on your pike jump over the week – your fingers were literally millimetres away from your toes. A little practice, and you’ll have it perfect. And you were the teeniest bit wobbly in your standing split, so just work on your balance a little,’ I say, and she nods enthusiastically, taking in every word. Whilst I’m speaking, I notice Jimin approaching us, and Jiwon does too, looking flustered when she spots him. But she sees the way I ignore him completely, and does the same, just listening to me.

‘Thank you, y/n, I really appreciate it. Also, can I ask for your advice about something?’ she asks, and I nod, surprised she wants my advice. Jimin is now stood right beside us, but neither of us pay attention to his presence, keeping our eyes on each other. ‘What do you do to warm up for your splits? I warm up, but it’s always painful when I do them, and you did them really well, so I thought I’d ask.’ ‘I do a lot of yoga, actually, which really helps. We always get here around twenty minutes before practice, and the others do laps and things like that to warm up, but I do a bit of yoga, which helps loosen my body a lot. And then, just before I start a routine, I bend in half, and hold my head against my shins for like half a minute, to loosen my legs. It’s a little painful, but it gets your legs ready for the stretch that you feel when you’re in the splits,’ I say, and she listens eagerly to every word. His presence is starting to bother me, especially the way he’s completely silent, a stupid smirk on his face. ‘Thank you, y/n. I’m gonna head off now, but thanks for the advice. Are you going to KPN’s party tonight?’ she asks, and I sigh, thinking back to the text invite that Jackson from Kappa Phi Nu sent out a couple days ago. ‘I’m not sure. I was gonna just head to the gym for a late-night workout but Jennie’s trying to convince me to go,’ I explain, and she nods. ‘Well, I hope you do come. It’d be nice to see you there,’ she says, and I smile at her, touched. And then I lose my patience, turning to him with annoyance, and he grins, draping his arms around our waists.

‘My two favourite girls,’ he says with a grin, making me want to slap him, and we both push his arms off us in disgust, moving away from him slightly. ‘Look at you two. Best friends now, huh? If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know each other, so I think a ‘thank you’ is in order,’ he says smugly, my eyes widening at him as Jiwon shoots him a dirty look. God, I love this girl. ‘Fuck you, Park,’ I say without thinking, and his eyes sparkle, mischief in his grin as he replies, ‘I already did, babe, keep up.’ And then he reaches into his back pocket, pulling his hand back out with something black and lacy hanging off his finger. My favourite bra. ‘Remember? You left this?’ ‘Park!’ I hiss, grabbing it from his hand and panicking for a moment, not sure where to put it (my cheer kit doesn’t have pockets) before I tuck it into his front pocket hastily. It’s too late, though, because everyone in the area who was watching saw it, laughter rippling around us. ‘I would’ve brought your pants too, but they were ripped, so I figured there was no point,’ he says, and I give him an angry stare, jaw hurting from how hard I’m clenching it. He just grins back, Jiwon looking between us for a few seconds before she says, ‘my friends are waiting for me, y/n, so I’m gonna go. I hope to see you later.’ ‘Okay, Jiwon. See you. Remember to work on your pike jump, and your standing splits. If you get here early, we can do some yoga together,’ I say, trying to push down the humiliation as the girl nods with a smile before she goes to join her friends who are watching us. Everyone’s watching us.

‘Your standing splits were good,’ he says, and I sigh, rolling my eyes. ‘I’m literally giving you a compliment!’ ‘I don’t care, you fucking dick.’ ‘Wow, never mind. I was gonna say that I could put your flexibility to good use, but forget it,’ he says, failing to hold back his grin, and I narrow my eyes at him. ‘Why the fuck did you come, Park? I thought I made it clear last week that I’m not interested in you,’ I say harshly, hurt momentarily appearing on his face before he masks it with a smirk, making me feel a little guilty. ‘We always come to watch try-outs. Entertainment for a couple hours. And it doesn’t hurt seeing you in this kit either,’ he says, taking the hem of my skirt into his hand, fingers momentarily skimming against my thigh, and I slap his hand away, feeling exposed in my kit all of a sudden. It’s quite revealing – a short blue skirt with a white border and a long-sleeved blue cropped top with shoulder cut-outs, with our school name written across the chest in white. It’s super cute though, even more so with the white pumps and frilly white ankle socks, and the blue and white bows on our ponytails. The boys wear the same colour scheme, blue and white t-shirts and shorts.

‘I swear to God, Park, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit today,’ I say tiredly, and he pouts, eyes still sparkling with amusement. ‘You were last week.’ ‘Things change. You can go now,’ I say pointedly, and he grins, taking a step closer to me, so close I can see every flaw on his face that he doesn’t have, and places a gentle hand on my waist. ‘I’ll go, but one last thing. I’ve gotta go drop my shit off in the changing rooms – Coach said we all have to, ready for next week – and I’ll wait in there for… hmm, shall I be nice? Okay, ten minutes. If I know you as well as I think I do, you’ve been thinking about me, and what happened last Saturday, all week long. I have. And I want a round two. I’ll wait for ten minutes,’ he says, voice low and face serious, before his whole demeanour changes, smile stretching his lips, hand falling from my waist as he takes a step back. My lips are parted and face warm, eyes locked with his, and my obviously affected appearance makes him let out a chuckle. ‘Ten minutes, angel. If not, I’ll see you tonight, at KPN, and you can get your bra from me there instead,’ he says with a smile, before turning and walking away, leaving me slightly stunned.

‘Close your mouth, babe, you’ll catch flies,’ Jennie says drily, and I turn to look at her, trying to compose myself. ‘He just asked me for a round two in the changing rooms,’ I whisper, and she gasps loudly, catching the attention of everyone around us. ‘Shut up!’ I hiss, and she claps a hand over her mouth. ‘Sorry, sorry. I’m just… shook. Are you gonna go?’ she asks, and I hesitate to answer, his dark eyes in my mind, my underwear embarrassingly damp. ‘I don’t know.’ ‘Bitch, stop kidding yourself – you want to, so just go,’ she says, but before I can reply, Kai joins us. ‘Um, y/n, there are a couple people waiting to ask you some questions,’ he says, and I sigh, looking over his shoulder to see some people hovering. I quickly rush over to them, listening to their questions (which are so unnecessary, might I add? Why do you need to know where to get the uniform from, or the date of Nationals this year, if you’re not even on the squad yet?) and answer them as quickly as I can, trying to be polite, but impatient, worried that my ten minutes will run out.

As soon as the last person’s done, Jennie grabs my arm and whispers, ‘it’s been nine minutes. I’ll pack stuff up, you just go.’ ‘Thank you, you’re the best,’ I whisper back. I rush off, speed walking across the pitch before someone can stop me, in the direction of the changing rooms. When I reach the door, I push it open slowly, listening out for any voices. And then I wonder – is this a prank? Is this payback for me leaving him last week? Are they all gonna be waiting there to jump out and laugh at me? But, no. He wouldn’t. Surely, he wouldn’t stoop that low? ‘Jimin?’ I whisper, hearing nothing back, and I venture in. ‘Jimin?’ I say a little louder, walking down the main aisle slowly, looking between the rows of lockers on either side of me. I call his name again, and when I reach the end of the lockers, stepping out into the open changing area, a wooden bench running around the walls, I feel a pair of hands push me up against the last locker, the metal clang echoing loudly around the room as I try to get my bearings, blinking to see Jimin stood in front of me, his body pressed up against mine.

‘You took eleven minutes, you fucking tease,’ he whispers, hand appearing at my throat and tightening instantly, my mind momentarily thinking back to last week, when he left bruises the shape of his rings around my neck. ‘Didn’t mean to. Got held up,’ I breathe out, and he pushes my head back at an unnatural angle, his dark eyes, blown wide with desire, locking with my own. ‘How can I believe you, after you left last week?’ he spits out, and I feel my stomach turn; I didn’t think he’d be that bothered, but it’s obvious he’s angry that I left him. ‘Never said I’d stay,’ I reply, with a small grin, and he growls angrily, pushing up against me even harder. ‘You’re the first girl that’s ever left without me telling her to. Trying to play me at my own game?’ he asks, amusement creeping into his voice, but he’s mainly angry, veins corded tight and body tense, fist curled and jaw clenched. ‘No. I just don’t like you,’ I reply, voice strained because of his hand tight at my neck, head beginning to go dizzy, and he lets out a humourless laugh.

‘Sure. Of course you don’t. Let’s see how much you don’t like me,’ he says, free hand pushing one of my legs out wider, so he has space to put his hand up my skirt. His finger slides beneath my tight safety shorts, and he lets out a laugh when he feels how wet my underwear is, making me look away from him in embarrassment. ‘Look at me,’ he demands, my eyes flitting back to his as he pushes my pants out of the way, swiping a finger along my dripping wet slit. I let out a shaky breath, and he chuckles. ‘I think you’re lying to me, angel. I think you actually do like me. A lot,’ he grins as he pulls his hand from my skirt, lifting his finger, glistening with my arousal, to my mouth. I keep my lips pressed shut, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Don’t make me punish you. This isn’t a repeat of last week – there’s other things I want to do to you,’ he says lowly, a thrill running through me, but I’m still as stubborn as last week. ‘I’m not here for a round two. I’m here for my bra,’ I exhale, and he rolls his eyes with a little laugh, his hand tightening at my neck. ‘You can earn it.’ ‘What is it… with you stealing my… things?’ ‘I didn’t steal anything. You left your bra when you did your little walk of shame. So it’s mine now – it’s been in my room for a week, with your tight jeans and your pretty top and those cute heels, and that little bag, with your keys and lip-gloss and pads in it. And because it’s all mine, I want you to earn it back,’ he replies before leaning down and pressing his lips to my ear, his beautiful scent flooding my senses.

‘Let me fuck your tits,’ he whispers, making my stomach clench with the thought of it, before he pulls back from me, searching my face for any kind of reaction. ‘And they say romance is dead,’ I whisper dryly, and he laughs, a startled laugh, as though he wasn’t expecting a joke from me. It makes my heart flutter a little, which then makes me want to slap myself. ‘Is that a yes?’ he asks with a mischievous grin. ‘No. It isn’t,’ I reply, and he sighs before letting go of me. ‘Fine. Let’s just talk then, if you don’t wanna fuck,’ he says neutrally, sitting down on the bench opposite me, and I’m disarmed at his sudden 180. ‘Sit down, y/n,’ he says, motioning to the bench and, for once, I listen to him, sitting down. He leans back against the wall and runs a hand through his hair, legs spread, thick thighs on display. Last week, the lighting from his bedroom lamp was low and sultry, but the lighting in here is bright and cold, and he still looks fucking gorgeous.

‘Who did you tell?’ he asks, and I know he’s asking what I’ve been wondering all week – who actually knows the full story. ‘Who did you tell?’ I ask, purposely being difficult, and he rolls his eyes, grin pulling at his lips. ‘Hobi and Tae are the only ones that know the full story. Jin, Yoongi, Joon and Kook know vaguely. Now tell me who you told,’ he says, and I’m surprised he’s kept it only to his closest friends – I thought for sure the whole frat would know. ‘y/n. Who did you tell?’ Nayeon, Lisa, Mina, Irene, Dahyun, Yeri, Jeongyeon, Seulgi, Sana, Jisoo, Chaeyoung, Joy, Momo, Wendy, Jihyo, Tzuyu and- ‘Jennie.’ ‘That’s it? Just Jennie?’ ‘And.. a couple of the other girls.’ He raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing me. ‘Did you tell them everything?’ ‘Only Jennie knows about me leaving when you… wanted me not to,’ I say, and he nods, looking a little embarrassed, and I feel so guilty, but I had to. ‘Why did you do it?’ he asks quietly, and I take a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment. ‘Because… we’re supposed to hate each other, and we had sex, Jimin. I couldn’t share a bed with you after that, I just… couldn’t.’ ‘Would it really be so bad if we didn’t hate each other?’ he asks, and I sigh, not wanting him to ask these questions, not wanting him to entertain this possibility. Because Jimin’s the type of boy to want what he can’t have, and as soon as I let him have me, more than just physically, he won’t want me anymore.

I get up and walk over to him, his eyes on me, and when I’m stood right in front of him, in between his legs, I drop to my knees. ‘y/n,’ he says slowly, as though he wants me to wait, but I can’t talk about this right now. ‘Shut up,’ I say before pulling my top over my head and throwing it behind me, leaving me in my bra. He’s quickly distracted, eyes lost in my chest, and I can see the bulge in his jeans growing already. I lift a hand to his crotch, palming him over his jeans, and his head falls back, a little moan falling from his lips. ‘Please, y/n, don’t tease,’ he breathes out, and I clench involuntarily at getting him like this. ‘Take your jeans off,’ I whisper, and he quickly unbuttons and unzips them, holding himself up from the bench and pushing them down with his underwear, just enough to free his cock. He’s only half-hard, but he’s already big, girthy and long, making me lick my lips at the sight of him. He tugs on his length a couple times to get himself fully hard, letting out little grunts, and I feel more arousal dampen my underwear. After a few seconds, I push his hands away, taking his length into my hands, and he shuffles forwards on the bench, giving me proper access to his cock.

I collect my saliva up on my tongue and spit at his dick, the saliva landing on his tip and slowly dripping down his length. I use my hand to spread it out before I take his swollen head into my mouth, kitten licking the tip before swirling my tongue around him. He pulls my bow out of my hair and grabs my ponytail, but restrains himself from trying to control my movements, letting me take my time with him. I don’t wait long before I’m taking him as far into my mouth as possible, before slowly bobbing my head up and down his length. ‘God, angel, your mouth is so fucking good. So good for me, such a dirty girl,’ he praises, head back against the wall but eyes on me, and when I look up at him through my lashes, he grins down at me. I hollow out my cheeks, trying to get my lips around the base of his cock, but my jaw is already hurting from my mouth being around his thick length. ‘Get me all the way in, baby, I know you can,’ he prompts, and I try my hardest, gagging around him, and it’s so fucking messy, saliva around my mouth and dripping down my chin. He decided to help, pushing my head even further down, and when my nose hits his skin, his abdomen contracts, a heavenly moan of my name falling from his lips.

Once I deem his cock sufficiently wet, I remove him from my mouth and reach behind me to unclasp my sports bra, pulling it off, feeling satisfied when his eyes are locked on my breasts. ‘Stand up,’ I say, and he does so, quickly, moving aside to let me sit on the bench. I perch on the edge, knees together, and Jimin stands in front of me, one leg on either side of mine. ‘Push your tits together for me, angel,’ he says, and I do so, the boy moving even closer to me. I feel his head against the bottom of my breasts, wet and hard, before slowly pushing up, breath catching in his throat as he goes as far as he can, his pink tip emerging through my cleavage. ‘Fuck, that feels good. Hold them tighter, babe,’ he says, and it starts to hurt when I do so, but the pleasure on his face as he thrusts, fucking my tits aggressively, more than makes up for it. I spit down into the valley of my breasts, for better lubrication, and he lets out a moan, thrusting even harder. And then he lifts a hand, landing a slap on one of my breasts. ‘Um, ow,’ I say, and he lets out a little chuckle, his thrusting not faltering for a moment. ‘So soft. Best tits I’ve ever seen,’ he says, landing a slap on the other, and I stop myself from slapping his balls because I don’t want to kill his vibe. And he’d probably enjoy it, the kinky bastard. I look down to see precum leaking from his tip, and I lean down, meeting one of his thrusts with my tongue, licking his precum, and he lets out a moan. ‘God, yes, baby. So good for me,’ he grunts, before his thrusts start to slow, until he eventually moves away from me.

‘Love your tits, angel, but I wanna cum in you instead,’ he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me up from the bench. ‘Put your clothes back on,’ he says, my eyes widening in confusion. ‘What? Why?’ ‘Because I’ve always wanted to fuck you while you’re wearing your cheer kit. Hurry up and put it on before I decide to leave,’ he says pointedly, and I feel guilt surge through me as I grab my bra from the floor, pulling it back on, and turning around for him to clasp it for me. He does so, taking ages (it seems he’s better at taking bras off than putting them on), and then I pull my top back over my head. As soon as I’m redressed, he pushes me up against the nearest locker, winding me, before his hand strays down to beneath my skirt. ‘You gonna take these booty shorts off before I rip them off you?’ he says, plump lips against my neck, and I push him off, quickly pulling off my safety shorts (these are the only pair I have at the moment – I ordered a pair online and they’re due in a couple weeks – so I really don’t need him ripping them). ‘They’re safety shorts, not booty shorts,’ I mutter, as I kick them off, and he doesn’t waste any time in pushing me up against the lockers again. He presses his lips to mine in a tame kiss (he doesn’t even use his tongue), mouths moving together for a few seconds before he pulls away, sinking to his knees.

‘You’ve been on your knees for me twice now, baby, so I think it’s time I repaid the favour. And I believe I promised to eat your pussy with my… pretty lips,’ he says, quoting my words from last week, and my stomach turns as he grabs the front of my underwear. He violently pulls at them, tearing them away from my body, and I refrain from kneeing him in the face for ruining a second pair of pants. He pushes my legs apart before pulling one over his shoulder, his face inches from where I need him. ‘Jimin… please,’ I whine, and he chuckles, expelling warm air across my dripping wet core, making me shudder. ‘See, baby, you’re being so good for me today, saying my name, and begging like a good girl. And good girls don’t get punished, don’t get spanked until their ass is raw. Good girls get rewarded,’ he says before his head disappears beneath my skirt and I feel him lick a slow bold stripe across my slit, my hips jerking at the feeling, pushing my core closer to his face. He swirls his tongue around my clit, and I let out a whimper of his name, making him chuckle as he grabs onto my waist to hold me in place. ‘So fucking sweet, angel. Best pussy I’ve ever tasted. Could eat you all day.’ He laps at me like there’s no tomorrow, my hands gripping onto his strong shoulders and head thrown back against the lockers. He brings his fingers to my clit, rubbing slow circles, at the stimulation at my bundle of nerves paired with his long, quick licks have me moaning out his name, my stomach already tightening with the threat of an orgasm.

And then he pushes a finger between my folds, pumping in and out of me as I clench around him. ‘Gotta stretch you out for my fat cock, baby, take it like a good girl. Stop clenching, babe,’ he murmurs soothingly against my inner thigh, his thick finger quickly being joined by another. ‘Ah, Jimin, feels so fucking good,’ I moan out, and he hums in response before attaching his lips to my clit, sucking at the bundle of nerves before adding another finger, three thick digits stretching me out. ‘Such a good little slut for me, angel. You take my fingers so fucking well,’ he says, lips still against my clit, and I feel my high nearing quickly, moans and whimpers escaping from my lips every few seconds. He’s so good with his mouth, his plump lips wrapping around my clit and sucking harshly, before he licks along my folds, fingers still pumping into me, curling against my spongy spot every few seconds, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. And he knows it, the pace of his fingers ever increasing, his lips and tongue attacking my core with passion.

And then we hear the door of the changing room open, followed by a group of loud male voices, laughing and joking. Before I can even register it, Jimin’s on his feet, scooping me into his arms and practically sprinting into the shower area, rushing into one of the cubicles. He puts me down carefully, a hand over my mouth, and I feel my orgasm fading away because of the fear of being caught by his teammates. And in my mind, the logical thing to do is to be silent and wait for them to leave, right? But Jimin isn’t logical, and he pushes me up against the brick wall, pumping his cock in his free hand. He removes his hand from my mouth, tapping my left leg before tapping his shoulder, and I get the message, putting my leg up over his shoulder, despite thinking that this is a terrible idea. And then he puts his hand back over my mouth before slowly sliding into me, his huge cock stretching me out painfully, filling me up completely, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to moan out his name, my head falling back against the wall with a dull thud. ‘What was that?’ I hear one of the boys say, the others asking what he’s talking about, and I feel panic fill me. But along with the panic is arousal at the idea of being caught, my pussy gushing around him, and he smirks, slowly thrusting into me, the curve of his dick allowing him to hit my g-spot (I’m certain Megan wrote Captain Hook about him).

I hear footsteps nearing us, before they stop abruptly. ‘Oh, my God,’ I hear a voice say quietly, before more footsteps can be heard. ‘What?’ ‘Look.’ ‘Whoa. Is that…?’ ‘Yes. One of the cheerleader’s bows.’ Panic strikes through me, and Jimin just grins, continuing to fuck me slowly, making me feel every inch of him. ‘And those are the shorts they wear, right?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘And are those… pants?’ ‘Yep. And they look ripped.’ ‘Is someone fucking in here?’ ‘No, we’d be able to hear them. They’re probably gone.’ ‘You think?’ ‘Yes. And I don’t wanna double check. Let’s just go.’ I feel my fear ebbing away as the footsteps get quieter before the door opens and closes. We’re both silent for a few moments, just to make sure they’re gone, before Jimin pulls all the way out of me, slamming back in. I let out a loud moan against his hand, which he moves to rest at the base of my throat, cock hammering into me ruthlessly. ‘Look how wet you are for me, baby. My little bitch likes the idea of getting caught with a fat cock inside her, huh? Does the idea of being walked in on turn you on, babe?’ he asks, and all I can do is nod, moans falling from my lips every few seconds as he slams into me, the drag of his cock against my walls making me weak.

‘Taking me so well, angel, letting me fill you up and stretch you out so good, baby,’ he praises, voice strained with effort, as he pounds into me, my mind completely blank of anything, of everything but him. I feel my orgasm nearing, my walls clenching around him, but that doesn’t stop him plunging into me, hard, his balls slapping up against my ass, one hand gripping onto his shoulder whilst the other is splayed against the cold wall. My leg is beginning to hurt being up against his shoulder, especially because all my body weight is resting on the toes of my other foot (I can’t get my whole foot on the floor), but he seems to be enjoying it, able to go deep into me at this angle, his tip hitting my cervix. ‘Look how flexible you are, baby, stretching for me like a good little whore. Gonna put your flexibility to good use all the time, babe – I’ll help keep you in shape for Cheer,’ he promises, fingers straying to my clit as he speaks. And then I feel him twitching inside me. ‘Are you close?’ I ask, and he nods, eyes fluttering shut, and I reach down to cup his balls, trying to push him over the edge. ‘Ah, fuck, feels good, y/n, your pussy’s so fucking good. Gonna cum, gonna fill you up like a good little slut,’ he breathes out, and I tighten around him, his head falling back as he lets out a loud moan of my name, hot cum shooting out of his cock, painting my walls. He continues thrusting, hips stuttering as he works himself through his orgasm, and I stay clenched around him to prolong his high.

Once he’s done, he pulls out, and puts me down carefully, taking a moment to get his breath back before tucking his softening cock into his underwear, zipping himself back up. He looks up at me with a grin, his hair messy, face still glistening with my arousal, eyes dark. ‘Good talk,’ he grins before turning and walking away. ‘Um, Jimin?’ I call after him, stepping out of the cubicle with shaky legs. ‘Yes, y/n?’ he asks, turning to look at me, eyes sparkling with mirth. ‘I didn’t…’ I trail off, unsure of what to say. ‘What? You didn’t cum?’ he asks, and I nod, my stomach twisting with hurt when he smirks and says, ‘I know, angel. Only good girls get to cum. And good girls don’t leave in the middle of the night after being asked to stay.’ My mouth drops open at the thought that he’s not going to make me cum, and he grins even wider, before taking a little pity on me. ‘I’ll tell you what, baby. Come to KPN tonight and come find me, and I’ll make you cum as many times as you want,’ he says, but I’m still furious. ‘You’re not being serious?’ ‘Deadly.’ ‘Jimin, please,’ I say, and he just grins back at me. ‘You might wanna clean yourself up. Got my cum dripping down your leg,’ he says, and I look down to see his thick white release slowly trailing down my skin. I curse under my breath, and when I look back up, Jimin’s already out of sight, whistling a merry tune, before I hear the changing room door open and close behind him. And when I slowly walk towards the lockers, I realise my bow, safety shorts and ripped pants are gone too. And he still hasn’t given me back my favourite bra.

I head over to the sinks to clean myself up, cursing at him the entire time. ‘Fucking bastard, and his stupidly big fat fucking cock, stealing all my stuff and leaving me high and dry with his fucking cum dripping down my fucking leg. Didn’t even give me any fucking aftercare, fucking dick,’ I rant angrily as I take my hair out of its messy ponytail, running my fingers through it. Luckily, I haven’t sweated off any of my makeup, the fading marks from last week fully covered, but it’s still clear I’ve just been fucked. And the fact that I don’t have anything on under my skirt isn’t helpful at all – thank God it isn’t windy today because otherwise, I’ll be flashing everyone. Once I’ve deemed myself okay to leave, I push open the changing room doors, looking side to side to make sure no one’s around before I slip out of the door, quickly making my way to mine and Jennie’s accommodation, trying to ignore how desperate I am for a release right now. And not just any release – one on Jimin’s cock. But that’ll have to wait for later – I’ve got a party to get ready for.

‘Jennie! y/n!’ Yeri exclaims when we walk into the kitchen through the back door, throwing her arms around us in a hug. ‘Hey, Yeri,’ we reply, hugging her back, and when she moves away, her eyes widen. ‘Jen, you look good, but y/n! You look good, girl!’ she exclaims. ‘Oh, thanks, Yeri,’ Jennie says sarcastically, but she doesn’t mean it – Jennie always opts for comfort over fashion at frat parties, usually wearing mom jeans, or a loose t-shirt dress (which she rocks by the way – no one pulls off the casual aesthetic like Jennie). And I never dress up too much, sticking to a simple outfit and dressing it up with heels and jewellery. But today, I decided to go all out, dressing to impress in a tight little black dress, hem around my upper thighs, ruched with a bardot neck (I had to forgo a bra, and used tit tape instead to make sure they don’t sag). I’m in a pair of black sparkly heels, much higher than last week’s, with a silver choker, silver hoops and a thin silver bracelet. Jennie has on a shoulder bag, big enough to fit my things in it, so I didn’t bother with a bag, my phone in my hand and my lipgloss, oil blotting sheets and keys in Jennie’s bag. ‘Thanks, Yeri. But look at you! This top is so cute!’

We greet all our friends, Jeongyeon pushing cups into mine and Jennie’s hands (I’m not sure what it is but it tastes nice), before I take a seat between Tzuyu and Lisa at the kitchen island, instantly getting into a conversation about Cheer. KPN parties are always really laidback – people wear whatever they want, drink whatever they want, and I never feel uncomfortable here, or pressured to act a certain way. I can just be myself, and enjoy the night with my friends. ASP’s the opposite in the sense that there’s always pressure – to look good, to end the night with someone, to give everyone something to gossip about.

‘y/n! You came!’ Jackson exclaims when he sees me, pulling me into an expensive smelling hug. ‘Hey, Jackson!’ ‘I was about to make a comment about how late you are, but you look really good, so I’ll let you off,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes. ‘Since when do you have to arrive to parties at a certain time?’ ‘You wouldn’t know, y/n, you’re always fashionably late,’ Tzuyu teases, and I cover my face with embarrassment – never have I arrived at a party before my friends (there’s just something about being there before the party has properly started that makes me want to cringe). ‘Anyway, what are you ladies drinking?’ ‘Diet Coke,’ Tzuyu says as she holds her cup up, Lisa drinking the same. ‘I’m drinking whatever the hell this is – Jeongyeon gave it to me,’ I say, and Jackson takes the cup, sipping from it, before his eyes widen. ‘Yo, this shit slaps. Where’s Jeongyeon? I want some,’ he says, turning away in search of her, and I call after him, ‘get me some more too, please!’

‘So… y/n,’ Lisa says with a knowing grin, making me raise an eyebrow at her. ‘Yes?’ I ask, she and Tzuyu exchanging an amused glance. ‘This dress is nice,’ Tzuyu says with the same knowing look as Lisa, and I look between them suspiciously. ‘Thanks,’ I say slowly, their smiles widening even more. ‘Who are you dressing to impress?’ Lisa asks, and I realise where this conversation is going, letting out a laugh. ‘Ah, you two. Can a girl not dress for herself?’ I grin, both of them raising their eyebrows. ‘Of course. But the timing’s a little suspicious. Not hoping for a round two, are we?’ Tzuyu asks, and I bite my lip embarrassedly. ‘What if we already had round two?’ I say quietly, both of their mouths falling open. ‘What?’ Lisa exclaims, drawing the attention of those around us, and I shut my eyes despairingly. ‘Keep your voice down, stupid!’ Tzuyu exclaims, Lisa murmuring an apology, still looking at me with wide eyes. ‘When?’ ‘Earlier, after practice. I met him in their changing rooms,’ I say, both of them looking even more shocked with each word. ‘Oh, my God! You two are, like, stuck in your own little forbidden and scandalous romance!’ Lisa whispers, and I shoot her a hard look. ‘It’s not a romance. He’s still, like, the most annoying and stupid person I’ve ever met. I mean, he literally left without making me cum, on purpose. He said if I showed up here tonight, he’d make it up to me,’ I whisper, both of them gasping quietly. ‘No way!’ Tzuyu says, and I nod. ‘So you’re gonna have a round three?’ Lisa asks, and I shrug. ‘I’m actually not sure. I don’t know whether I came so that I could leave with him, or so that I could piss him off by getting with someone else,’ I say, both of their eyes lighting up. ‘Get with someone else,’ they chorus, and I let out a gentle laugh.

Before I can reply, Jackson reappears with two cups in hand. ‘It’s Fireball Whisky with cream soda,’ he says, and I blink in surprise, not sure whether to be impressed or disgusted at Jeongyeon’s weird concoction. He takes the empty cup from my hand and hands me a new one, and I thank him as I take a sip. It really is good, and I know I need to be careful not to drink too much – I’ll forget just how strong whisky is and then find myself hunched over the toilet in a few hours, vomiting it all back up. ‘Are you guys gonna just sit here and chat all night? This is a party! We’re supposed to be having a good time,’ Jackson says, and I exchange a glance with the girls. ‘We are having a good time,’ Tzuyu replies mildly, and Jackson rolls his eyes. ‘So you’re not gonna come dance?’ he asks, and we all shake our heads. As much as I do love getting lit, it’s nice to just have a gossip with the girls sometimes. ‘Maybe later,’ I say, and he frowns, shaking his head. ‘You guys are boring.’ ‘Go find Joy, she’ll dance with you,’ Tzuyu suggests, and Lisa nods before adding, ‘and Dahyun. Come find us in a couple hours, and then we’ll dance with you too.’

Jackson quickly disappears, calling out for Joy and Dahyun, and the spot where he was stood is quickly occupied by a boy who I recognise as Chan, one of the boys on the team and a KPN brother. ‘Hi, Chan,’ Tzuyu says, the boy giving us a smile. ‘Hi, guys. You’re all cheerleaders, right?’ he asks, and we nod, confused as to where he’s going with this. ‘Do you wear these, like… little black shorts under your cheer outfits? Like super small, tight, black shorts?’ he asks, and I realise, dread flooding through me as we all nod. ‘They’re called safety shorts,’ Lisa says, and Chan nods. ‘I thought so. We saw a pair earlier, in the changing rooms, with one of the bows you guys wear, and some… underwear. Ripped. So I was just… curious, I guess,’ he says, Tzuyu and Lisa both turning their gazes to me. ‘Um… Chan, I’d be really grateful if you didn’t mention that to anyone,’ I say embarrassedly, the girls stifling laughs as Chan’s face falls with shock. ‘Oh! They were yours?’ he asks, and I nod, totally humiliated. ‘Who was, um, with you when you came in? There was just a couple of you, right?’ I ask, and he winces. ‘There were a few of us, actually. But it’s fine, I’ll tell them not to mention it to anyone. Your secret’s safe with us, y/n,’ he says with a grin, and I give him a weak smile. ‘Thanks, Chan.’ ‘No problem. Before I never mention it again, I just have one question,’ he says tentatively, and I close my eyes briefly, nodding as I brace myself. ‘Were you… in there when we went in?’ he asks, and I take a deep breath before nodding, his eyes widening. ‘In the shower cubicles, right?’ ‘Yep.’ ‘I thought I heard a banging noise,’ he says, and the girls burst out laughing. ‘No, no, it’s because I hit my head on the wall,’ I explain over their laughter, even more embarrassed now. ‘Sorry,’ Chan says, and I wave it off. ‘It’s fine, it’s my own fault for fucking in a public place,’ I say bluntly, and he lets out a gentle laugh.

The girls are still laughing when Chan leaves with the promise of never mentioning it again, and I shoot them dirty looks. ‘Are you gonna stop laughing any time soon or should I just go?’ I ask venomously, and their laughter gets even louder, making me roll my eyes. ‘Fine. I’m going,’ I say, pushing myself off my seat and leaving with my phone and drink in my hands, their laughter continuing behind me. I decide to venture into the living room, but regret my decision the second I walk in and lock eyes with Hyunjin – Chan’s whispering something to him, and he bites down on his lip when he sees me, obviously holding back a laugh at the irony of seeing me as Chan fills him in. I turn on my heel, instantly heading back into the kitchen and ignoring Hyunjin’s loud laughter behind me. But when my eyes meet Lisa’s and she bursts out laughing again, Tzuyu laughing too, I make a decision – I want to go home. I know none of them mean anything by it but it’s really… getting to me. I don’t like that nearly every conversation I’ve had in the last week has come back to Jimin – in fact, I hate it. I’m more than my sexual escapades, whether or not they’re with my worst enemy. I came here to have a good time with my friends tonight – not to speak about my sex life.

‘Mark,’ I say, catching the boy beside me offguard. ‘Oh, hey, y/n. You okay?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘I’m great. You?’ ‘I’m good, thanks. What’s up? You look… stressed.’ ‘I’m okay, I just… have you seen Jennie?’ I ask, and he nods, taking me by surprise. ‘I saw her go out the back door a couple minutes ago, with Seulgi and Nayeon,’ he says, and I grin at him. ‘Thank you, Mark, you’re the best!’ I exclaim, not giving him a second to reply before I quickly head towards the back door, ducking through the doorway before anyone else can speak to me. There’s a group of boys stood near the door, passing around a joint, and I quickly head past them, eyes skimming over the surroundings to see if the girls are here. I spot their three dark heads close together, looking at something on Seulgi’s phone, and I rush over. Nayeon spots me first, concern on her face as she watches me head towards them. ‘What’s the matter, y/n?’ she asks, the other two girls looking up at hearing my name. ‘I… I’m gonna leave,’ I say, all three of them looking at me in surprise – you usually have to drag me away from a party. ‘Why? You look hot, girl! You can’t waste this look!’ Seulgi exclaims, throwing an arm around my shoulders, and I give her a grateful smile. ‘Thanks, Seulgi, but I just… I’m fed up of being teased about Jimin. Maybe it’s God punishing me for sleeping with him, but for fuck’s sake, isn’t him being an idiot punishment enough? I don’t need everyone bringing it up every two fucking seconds,’ I complain, the three of them exchanging amused glances.

‘Oh, babe, it sucks, but you’ve gotta be thick skinned. You have to remember that you have publicly hated him for as long as we’ve all known you, pretty much. The fact that you’ve slept with him is, like, a big deal. It’s hot gossip. Of course people are gonna want to talk about it, and you are gonna get teased. You can’t let it get to you, or people will do it even more,’ Jennie says rationally, and I know she’s right, but I still don’t want to accept it, pouting. ‘I know, you’re right, but I’m already in a bad mood now, and I just wanna go home,’ I say, and I know I’m being immature, but I don’t care. I notice Nayeon’s eyes wander from me to over my shoulder and then she says, ‘well, someone’s coming over, and I don’t whether he’s going to make your mood better or worse.’ I sigh, wanting to cry, and I can feel Seulgi holding back a laugh. ‘Shall I tell him to fuck off?’ Jennie asks, and I shake my head – I don’t have the energy to fight with him today.

‘y/n,’ I hear his stupid voice say, before he appears beside me. He’s dressed in all black, tight ripped jeans and a black button-up shirt, the top two buttons undone and revealing tanned and freckled skin, with a leather jacket over the top of it. He’s wearing silver jewellery again, rings, earrings, bracelets and a necklace, and he looks really fucking handsome, like always. He looks me up and down, his eyes nearly falling out of his head at my appearance as he sweeps his black hair back with one hand, before he looks at my face, the shock being replaced with concern. ‘You okay?’ he asks, and him caring about me makes me want to run a mile – he’s supposed to hate me, not worry when I’m upset and annoyed. ‘I… don’t know,’ I say tiredly, not quite sure what to say, and he looks even more concerned at that. ‘Shall we… give you guys a minute?’ Jennie says, and I look at her in surprise. She just looks back at me with a sad smile, and then I realise; she’s knows that there’s more to this, to me and… Jimin, than just two people who fucked even though they hate each other. And so do I, the thought terrifying me. His feelings are involved, and maybe mine are too, and I already know this is gonna get messy, messier than it should. But I don’t really have it in me to put a stop to it right now. I think I must have hurt him a lot when I left him last week (the thought of him waking up to an empty bed when he thought I would be there beside him makes me feel sick to my stomach) and I don’t ever want to hurt someone like that again. Even if it that someone is Jimin, the most annoying, stupid, selfish, egotistic, infuriating, big-headed person to ever walk the Earth.

I stay silent, and Jimin takes that as a sign to nod at the girls, all of them giving me little hugs before they head back up towards the house. The few people that are outside are watching interestedly and I want to just tell them to all fuck off. I used to think I’d love being the centre of attention all the time, but I’ve definitely changed my mind. ‘What’s the matter, y/n?’ he asks gently, and I sigh, not meeting his eyes as I think, not sure what to tell him. He stays quiet as he waits for me to speak, which leaves us in a heavy silence. ‘I… I’m just fed up. All anyone’s been speaking to me about is you and I don’t like it because there’s more to talk about to me than my sex life, and I hate that people are always staring at me now and probably thinking all these things about me when they barely know me and everyone’s making me regret sleeping with you but I don’t want to regret it because it was good and I enjoyed it and it was with you, but I don’t know why that’s making me not regret it but I kind of do know because I don’t think that I see you the same as I used to anymore, which is something else I hate because I’m supposed to hate you, and I do but I also don’t think I do, and I’m so confused, and I just want to go home,’ I say miserably all in one breath, and he looks a little taken aback, but nods when I’m finished speaking. ‘I… I’ve been thinking a lot of the same things the last week, and I’m confused too. So if it’s any consolation, I know how you feel,’ he says, and somehow… it is consolation. I already knew his feelings towards me had changed, but hearing that he feels all the other stuff too, it does make me feel better. But I’m a stubborn bitch.

‘No, actually, I’m not sure you do know how I feel. Because I didn’t make it harder for you. I didn’t show up somewhere solely to piss you off, and laugh with my friends to make you feel self-conscious, and be all smug and amused and rude to you, and pull your underwear out of my pocket in front of everyone to embarrass you. So no, Jimin, you don’t know how I feel,’ I reply angrily, unable to help myself, but it’s true – he made this all a hundred times worse at try-outs earlier, and I am angry at him for it. I wait for him to get angry in return, to point out that I probably didn’t make it any better for him by being a bitch, but I’m pleasantly surprised when he just nods, his head dropping sheepishly. ‘I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t mean to, I promise – I never intended to piss you off or to make you feel self-conscious or to embarrass you. I tend to… not think before I do things, and I guess my pride was hurt that you left so I wanted to just save face. And I shouldn’t have… left you earlier. I was just being petty and wanted to get back at you. I’m really sorry,’ he says earnestly, and I’m shocked into silence for a few moments, before I nod.

‘Okay. I accept your apology,’ I say, and he smiles. ‘I’m glad. Now… shall I take you home?’ he asks, and I blink in surprise. ‘What?’ ‘You said you wanted to go home so do you want me to take you?’ he offers, and I hesitate for a moment. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘Because I’m supposed to hate you, and you’re supposed to hate me,’ I whisper, and he raises an eyebrow, taking a step closer to me. ‘Like I said earlier… would it really be so bad if we didn’t hate each other?’ he replies quietly, and I’m silent. ‘I don’t… I don’t know. It’s kinda… scary to think about. And it’s just easier to hate you. And…’ I trail off, and an amused smile appears on his stupid face. ‘You’re too stubborn to not hate me when you’ve hated me for so long, right?’ he says, seeing right through me, and I nod sheepishly. ‘We really need to work on your stubbornness, because I can see a future for us, y/n. If you could just give in to your feelings for me, we could pursue something together,’ he grins, but there’s no humour, no amusement in his voice at all, his honesty nearly winding me. He throws an arm around my shoulders and slowly walks us back up to the house. ‘A future? For you and me?’ I echo, and he lets out a gentle laugh. ‘Yeah! We’ll get married as soon as we finish Uni, have a load of kids, and they can become footballers and cheerleaders to follow in our footsteps,’ he says, and I choke, making him let out a loud laugh. ‘Okay, maybe not as soon as we finish Uni. I’ll make that sacrifice.’ ‘Thanks.’ ‘Of course, angel. Anything for you.’

The second we step into the house, all eyes in the kitchen look up at us. ‘Can we help you?’ Jimin asks evenly, daring them to say something, and they’re all silent. ‘Thought so,’ he mutters, leading us over to where the drinks are as conversation resumes around us, albeit much quieter now. Jimin eyes the dozens of bottles covering the countertop before his eyes flit to the cup in my hand. ‘What you drinking, babe?’ he asks quietly, and I hold my drink up for him to try. ‘You trying to roofie me?’ he grins, and I let out a little laugh. ‘It’s Fireball whisky and cream soda. Jeongyeon’s concoction,’ I say, and he grimaces before trying some, his face instantly changing. ‘Oh, wow, that’s good,’ he says, reaching for the whisky bottle to pour himself some. ‘Did you just arrive?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘I literally got here, walked into the kitchen, saw you weren’t in here, asked Mark where you were, and he said you were outside. I was coming to apologise,’ he says, and my heart warms. ‘To be honest… I should apologise too,’ I say, and his mouth drops open. ‘I can’t believe my ears. Is stubborn y/n finally discarding her pride?’ ‘Shut up, stupid,’ I laugh, shoving him gently, and he grins. ‘You don’t have to apologise, angel. You were scared that we didn’t hate each other, so you left, and then you were a bitch to me so that I’d hate you. That’s it. Don’t worry about it,’ he says, and I nod, grateful that I don’t have to apologise.

‘Okay,’ he says once he’s poured his drink, ‘shall we get away from all the staring?’ I raise an eyebrow, and he laughs. ‘I didn’t mean that, but if you’re down. I still owe you from earlier,’ he says lowly with a smirk, and my breath catches in my throat. ‘Um… maybe later. Let’s… see what’s going on in the rest of the house,’ I say, and he nods, grinning at my flustered state. And then he takes my hand into his, our fingers laced together, and a little shock runs up my arm at the contact. I nearly slap myself – he was rearranging my guts earlier, but I’m getting butterflies at him holding my hand? Really?

He leads me into the living room, several pairs of eyes turning to us, but he completely ignores them, so I do too. ‘You wanna stay in here?’ he asks over the loud music, and I shake my head. He nods, continuing to lead us through the room into the front hallway. The layout is the same as the ASP house, so Jimin knows his way around, leading me through the hallway and pushing open the door to the other living room, where it’s considerably more chill. The haze of weed lays heavy on the air, music gently pulsing through the room, and there are a lot less people in here, majority the boys on the football team with their girlfriends. ‘Oh, y/n, Chan spoke to me, I…’ Felix calls to me before his eyes land on Jimin behind me, his words trailing off when he spots our intertwined hands. ‘Yeah, it’s… yeah,’ I say, a little embarrassed, and Felix just nods, holding back a laugh when Jimin looks between us. ‘What did Chan speak to you about, Lix?’ Jimin asks, and I cringe. ‘They’re the ones that walked into the changing rooms earlier,’ I say under my breath, and he lets out a little noise of realisation with a nod, a smirk playing at his lips as he looks at Felix, the boy looking endlessly amused. ‘Oh, are you guys talking about how we walked in on you in the changing room?’ Jisung calls out tactlessly, and I close my eyes, gathering myself, as laughter ripples around the room. ‘You know what? Let’s just leave,’ I say tiredly, more laughter following my words, and Jimin nods, bidding goodbye to his friends with a smug grin as he leads me out of the room.

‘Shall we sit outside?’ he suggests, and I nod, letting him pull me through the front door. I shut the door behind us, and when I turn back, Jimin’s sat on the front step, looking out onto the front garden. It’s surprisingly empty, and it’s quiet out here, the only noise coming faintly from inside. I sit down beside him, pulling my dress down, and Jimin notices, a greasy smirk appearing on his face. ‘I swear to God, Park, I will not hesitate to throw this drink at you,’ I say, and he laughs, eyes disappearing behind their lids. ‘I was just gonna say that you look really nice. That dress really suits you,’ he grins, and I eye him suspiciously, holding back a laugh. He holds his hands up, feigning innocence, and I let out a gentle laugh, taking a sip of my drink. ‘Did you wear it for me?’ he asks, and I nod without looking at him. ‘Good choice. I like it,’ he replies, reaching for my hand, and I can’t help the small smile on my face as he laces his fingers with mine, our hands resting in my lap.

We both fall into a comfortable silence, and it’s really nice. It’s like all the other stuff falls away and doesn’t matter anymore, and we’re just a girl and a boy sat on the front steps of a frat house, taking a moment away from the party under the night sky, holding hands and drinking whisky and soda. We sit in silence for a few minutes, and I think that this is what true peace is like; when things are quiet and simple and easy, and nothing’s bothering me, nothing’s complicated or confusing, nothing matters. It’s almost too good to be true.

The door behind us opens after a few minutes, both of us turning to see Jeongin and Changbin, two more boys on the team, and Jimin grins widely when he sees them. I turn to face the front garden again, my back to the boys with my hand still in Jimin’s, both resting in my lap. ‘Boys! How are you? Ready for first practice next week?’ Jimin asks them, and I roll my eyes amusedly – football is their livelihood, and Jimin’s in his element talking about football, even more now that he’s been promoted to Captain. ‘Looking forward to it, Captain!’ Jeongin exclaims, hyping Jimin up even more. ‘Before we get distracted with football, we thought we’d let you know that, um, Rosie’s been looking for you. She asked us where you were and we said we didn’t know so we could buy you some time, but she’ll probably find you soon,’ Changbin says, and I freeze at the mention of his ex, Jimin wincing. ‘Um, okay, thanks, guys. I’ll, uh, speak to you later,’ he says, dismissing them, and they quickly disappear with a ‘bye’ thrown over their shoulders before the door shuts.

‘Why is Rosie looking for you?’ I ask amusedly, knowing exactly why she’s looking for him. She and Jimin have been in an on-again-off-again relationship for a long time, but he ended it for good at the end of last year, and stayed true to his word. According to the rumours, they don’t even talk anymore, just walk past each other without a word, and they haven’t slept with each other again. But she’s obviously got wind about me, and is jealous. ‘Um, yeah, about that. There’s probably something I should tell you,’ he says hesitantly, and I feel my body go a little cold as I turn my eyes to him – maybe there is a different reason she’s looking for him. ‘I… may have… slept with her… on Tuesday,’ he says, and the words don’t really register with me for a moment. ‘y/n?’ he says, eyes full of worry and I blink, realisation washing over me.

He slept with her. Four days ago.

I remove his hand from mine, and he flinches when I do so, retracting his hand slowly. ‘What… were you thinking?’ I ask, and he just blinks for a moment. ‘I was thinking that you hated me because you left and I was hurt so I found comfort in someone else,’ he says, tone neutral, but I can hear the defensiveness coming through. And, okay, maybe that is a good enough reason. But I’m still angry. Do I even have a right to be angry? ‘But your ex? Jimin, I-’ ‘Yes, y/n, my ex. I don’t really think you have a right to be angry. You left me. You knew my feelings for you were different to what you first thought, and you left anyway!’ he exclaims, voice rising, and I roll my eyes, letting out a humourless laugh. ‘I wasn’t obligated to stay just because you liked me!’ ‘But you liked me too!’ ‘I’m not sure I did, Jimin, and I’m still not sure about it! Besides, you literally said like fifteen minutes ago that you understood why I left and that I didn’t need to apologise for it!’ I point out, and he scoffs. ‘I do understand, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less, y/n. I was hurting and she was at the ASP house picking up her hair clip that she lost at the party and one thing led to ano-’ ‘So she just happened to be at the house, picking up a hair clip, three days after what happened between you and me? You don’t think she planned that?’ I say incredulously, unable to believe how dense he is. ‘So what if she did? To me, it was meaningless sex, to get my mind off you. I don’t think you have a right to be angry.’ ‘I don’t think I do either, but I still am!’ I exclaim, and he rolls his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. ‘You’re not angry, you’re jealous.’ ‘I’m not jealous, Jimin, don’t be ridiculous,’ I scoff, even more pissed off now. ‘You are.’ ‘If I said, ‘let’s go upstairs and fuck’ right now, you would be down, so what have I got to be jealous about?’ I ask lowly, and his eyes darken. ‘Fine. You’re not jealous. You’re angry I slept with someone else because you like me. Don’t even bother saying you’re still not sure because that’s the only reason for you to be angry. And in that case, I understand. And I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,’ he says calmly, and I don’t say anything, looking away from him.

After a few moments, he reaches for my hand tentatively, gauging my reaction before lacing our fingers together again. ‘You don’t have to apologise. I’m just being silly,’ I say, and he chuckles, moving closer to me. ‘I’ll apologise as many times as you need me to. I really do like you, y/n, and I kinda have for a while. I don’t want to fuck up whatever this is happening between us. And I know you’re still reluctant and you still want to hate me or whatever, but I don’t mind waiting until you’re ready. I’m happy to take time to win you over,’ he says softly, and my heart warms a little. The contrast between this Jimin and the Jimin from last week really is insane. There are so many sides to him, it’s hard to keep track. ‘Sorry,’ I say, and he lets out a gentle laugh. ‘You don’t have to apologise for getting angry that I slept with my ex, even if we didn’t make any commitments to each other. I understand,’ he says simply, and I can’t help the smile on my face as I shuffle even closer to him, our sides pressed together and my head resting on his shoulder.

And again, it’s nice. But it really is too good to be true. The door behind us is wrenched open before we hear, ‘Jimin?’ I sigh, Jimin turning to look at Rosie. ‘Rosie,’ he replies, voice neutral, and I turn around, our eyes meeting. ‘Hi, Rosie,’ I smile at the girl. I’ve never actually had a problem with Rosie – we run in the same social circles, she’s a Cheerleader, and we’ve never been close but from what I know of her, she’s okay. ‘Hi, y/n. Do you mind if I speak to Jimin for a moment?’ she says sweetly. ‘Of course,’ I reply with a smile, not moving a muscle, and Jimin sighs. ‘y/n, please,’ he says, and I turn to him, annoyance unfurling in my chest. ‘Okay,’ I say coldly, dropping his hand from mine and rising up, brushing past Rosie into the house.

What is wrong with him? Has he got no common sense? The logical thing to have done is obviously to not speak to her – what could she possibly have to say? All she’s going to do is try to get him back. And he’s really stupid enough to ask me to leave? Am I a dickhead? I let out an angry sigh, deciding that I’ve had enough. He’s been spouting all this shit about how he doesn’t want to fuck this up, and then literally like two fucking minutes later, he’s having a private conversation with his ex. This is like ‘To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before’ but in real life. He’s Peter, Rosie’s Gen and I’m Lara Jean. Somehow though, I feel like I won’t have the same happy ending.

‘y/n!’ I hear Jennie call from the other living room, where she’s sat with Jihyo and Irene, and I sigh, heading in. ‘What’s happened?’ she asks, and I roll my eyes, the attention of everyone in the room on me. ‘He apologised and we made up but then he asked me to leave so he could have a private conversation with his ex,’ I say, and they all gasp, confirming that I’m not a crazy bitch and that he shouldn’t be having private conversations with his ex. ‘Oh, girl, you better not forgive his stupid ass,’ Jihyo says, the other girls in the room nodding and giving various agreements, and the boys are all quiet – they obviously feel a sense of loyalty to Jimin and don’t want to talk bad about him. ‘I feel so pissed, but I also feel like I don’t have a right to be pissed,’ I say, and the girls all frown, disagreeing instantly. ‘You do have a right to be pissed. You should go throw your drink over his stupid head,’ Jennie says angrily, and I hold back a laugh.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ I sigh helplessly, perching on the arm of Seungmin’s armchair. ‘It’s a red flag, y/n. End things here – don’t let it go too far otherwise you’ll get too attached, your feelings will get deeper and stronger, and it’s just not worth it. Him and Rosie are always messing around and it’ll probably be like that for a long time – she’s a nice girl but she’s got Jimin wrapped around her finger and she knows it. If he tries to move on, she’ll stop it. It’s not worth you getting involved in that, because you shouldn’t have to compete with his ex,’ Irene says softly, everybody listening to her, and I know she’s exactly right; I might… maybe… kinda… sorta… like(?) Jimin now, but he’s not worth competing with another girl for. If there’s even a choice for him, I should walk away. I deserve someone who wants me and only me. ‘God, you’re right,’ I wail, throwing myself back against the armchair and lifting my hand to my face despairingly, a little laugh running around the room at my dramatics as Seungmin pats my arm comfortingly. ‘I know he’s our friend, y/n, but he’s also kinda a dick when it comes to girls, and we all know it. I mean, he was literally bragging to us yesterday about what happened between you guys,’ Minho says, and I feel my focus shifting entirely to his words when he says that, my entire body tensing. ‘What did he say?’ I ask calmly, though I can feel my anger slowly rising, along with the tension in the room. ‘Well… um,’ Minho begins hesitantly, before sighing, ‘we all went to ASP last night for KPN and ASP Pizza Friday, and we were speaking about going to watch you guys at the try-outs. JB mentioned that, as the new captain, you might get pissed if we showed up, and then the conversation turned to you and Jimin last week.’

I’m in total shock; he blatantly lied to me earlier, by telling me that he’d only told his closest friends. The thought that all those boys were sat together last night, talking about me, makes my stomach turn. ‘What did he tell you guys?’ I ask shakily, despite not actually wanting to know. ‘Um… everything,’ Minho says, and my heart drops. ‘Everything?’ ‘Yeah. Everything,’ Chan confirms, voice gentle, and I can feel tears pricking my eyes. ‘Wow. Okay. So not only is he a dick, he blatantly lied,’ I say flatly, the room completely silent other than the low RnB beat pulsing from the speaker. ‘I’m gonna go. Sorry for, uh, killing the vibe,’ I say quietly, pushing myself up from the arm of Seungmin’s armchair and heading towards the door, multiple people in the room calling after me.

I quickly dart up the stairs, dodging past the couple making out on the landing and into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Part of me is numb, in complete shock, and doesn’t know how to react. Another part of me is unbelievably hurt that he completely lied to my face, and that he asked me to leave so he could talk to his ex. Privately. Another part of me is totally humiliated that he told the boys everything, my pride completely ruined now. And the other part of me is annoyed at myself for being so hurt about a boy who, this time last week, I hated and would’ve rather fought than fucked.

‘y/n, it’s me,’ I hear Jennie’s voice from the other side of the door, and I unlock it to let her in. She pulls me into a hug, and I have to scrunch my eyes shut to stop myself from crying, pushing my head into her neck as she rubs my back comfortingly. ‘He’s so trash, babe. So trash. You deserve so much better,’ she says soothingly, and I try my best to fully believe her words, but it’s hard when I’m also trying to hold back my tears.

Before I can even speak to her, Jiwon’s head appears around the door, her eyes widening when she sees how upset I am. ‘y/n! Sorry for just walking in but are you okay?’ she asks, eyes big with concern, and my heart warms. ‘Ugh, yeah,’ I say, Jennie and I moving apart, and I tilt my head back, blinking furiously to get rid of my tears. ‘It’s just Jimin. He’s such a dick. I’m done with him,’ I say, the words coming out of my mouth before I even think of them, and I realise that, yes, I am done with him. I’m not wasting my time on him anymore.

‘Good. You deserve better. I mean, I knew he was a dick when he literally grabbed me on the way up to his room last week and dragged me along behind him. He made me think he was attracted to me, but he obviously just wanted to make you jealous,’ Jiwon says, and it makes me hate him even more. I didn’t even think about how hurt she must have been when she realised he was just using her. ‘God, he really is a dick,’ I spit, face twisted up in disgust, and Jiwon lets out a gentle laugh. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t see that sooner.’ ‘I knew all along. There was a reason I hated him so much – he’s always been a self-absorbed, egotistic, arrogant douche, but now… he’s even worse in my eyes.’

‘Shall we head back downstairs, get you a drink, dance? Or… shall we head home? We could have a little girls’ night – we’ve got a couple bottles of Echo Falls in the fridge, Clueless and Mean Girls on Netflix, and I have a few face masks. We could invite some of the other girls, too. And you could join us, Jiwon. We could get drunk, order pizza and talk about how much of a bastard Jimin is,’ Jennie says, the three of us laughing. She’s really sold the idea – it sounds like a lot of fun – but it’s late already. It’s better if I just head home and go to sleep. I actually feel exhausted after the events of today; it’s been an emotional rollercoaster, and I’m literally craving my bed right now. ‘That sounds fun, Jen, but maybe we could do that another night. I could do with just sleeping tonight,’ I say, and she nods, smiling gently.

‘Shall I order an Uber?’ ‘You stay,’ I say, and she frowns. ‘Why would I stay? You’re upset – I’ll come back with you.’ ‘No, honestly, I’ll be fine. You stay, enjoy the party. You haven’t even spent any time with Namjoon,’ I say, and she rolls her eyes. ‘I don’t care about spending time with Namjoon right now. You’re my priority. I’m coming home with you,’ she says firmly, pulling her phone out of her pocket, and I exchange an exasperated glance with Jiwon, the other girl incredibly amused.

As soon as Jennie’s ordered the Uber, we head downstairs to bid everyone goodbye. The second I step into the kitchen, Jin and Jungkook appear in front of me, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. ‘Don’t say a word, because I swear to God, I won’t hesitate to kick you both in the balls,’ I threaten angrily, and their grins soon disappear. ‘Have you been crying, y/n? What’s the ma-?’ ‘Don’t say a word!’ I exclaim, pushing past them to say goodbye to Wendy, Lisa, Chaeyoung and Tzuyu, the three of them giving me tight and comforting hugs – it seems that word’s already gotten around to the girls about Jimin and I. Then, in the living room, Nayeon, Seulgi, Mina, Jeongyeon, Jisoo, Momo, Joy and Sana all stop dancing the second I walk in, smothering me in hugs, and I know for sure that word has gotten around. And then, in the other living room, Jihyo, Irene, Yeri and Dahyun all give me big hugs too, and it really does make me feel better. Girls say it a lot, but it’s true – as long as you have your girls around you, you really don’t need a man. Any KNP or ASP boys that I walk past get the cold shoulder – they were all present when Jimin told them the dirty details and, despite some of them being my friends, close friends, not one of them thought to tell me. The only person that gets a goodbye from me is Minho; the rest of them can fuck themselves.

When I reach the front door, my hand shakes for a moment and I hesitate, Jennie putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. I take a deep breath, rolling back my shoulders and raising my chin a little, injecting as much confidence into my body language as possible before I aggressively turn the handle, pulling the door towards me forcefully. They’re still sat on the front doorstep, Rosie where I was sat just half an hour ago, and they both jump when they hear the door open. And even though they react instantly, I still spot Jimin’s hand retracting from Rosie’s, leaving hers empty.

My eyes flit back up, in front of me, and I carefully walk through the gap between them, ignoring them both completely. ‘y/n? Are you leaving?’ I hear Jimin ask, but Jennie puts a hand on my back, the both of us continuing to walk up towards the road and away from him. ‘y/n! Wait!’ he calls after me, and then I hear his footsteps behind us, making my blood boil – can he not take the hint? ‘What, Jimin?’ I demand, whirling around to face him, and he hesitates in his steps. ‘y/n-’ ‘No, Jimin, don’t ‘y/n’ me. What the fuck do you want?’ ‘I… you’re angry at me,’ he says quietly, and I let out a harsh laugh. ‘Great observation, Jimin! What else will you come out with? The grass is green? Or the sky is blue, perhaps?’ ‘Okay, you don’t need to be so bitchy to m-’ ‘Bitchy?’ I practically scream, marching towards him, and he recoils away from me. Good. I’m glad he’s scared.

‘I think I’m well within my rights to be bitchy to you, you fucking bastard!’ I shriek, and he flinches, confusion all over his face. ‘What did I do, y/n? I… let me fix it,’ he says, and I let out another humourless laugh. ‘Fix it? You want to fix it?’ I ask hysterically, voice shaking, ‘You might’ve been able to fix the fact that you asked me to leave so you could have a private conversation with your ex, but that’s a very strong ‘might’, because I am not a choice, Jimin! You don’t get to mess me around! I’m number one, or I’m nothing to you at all!’ ‘Okay. Okay, I understand, and I’m sorry. I won’t do something like that again,’ he says earnestly, desperation in his eyes, but I can’t muster up any sympathy at all. Maybe I am a bitch, like he told me so many times last week.

‘No, you’re not going to do something like that again. Because you’re not going to have the chance, Jimin. We are done. That’s it,’ I say, and any hope that was in his eyes completely disappears, the light draining away. ‘What? Why? I thought you wanted… to give us a go,’ he says quietly, sounding… lost, and confused. It only makes me angrier – he’s not gonna get away with playing innocent today. ‘I did. Before I found out that you went and blabbed every single detail of last week to every fucking frat boy in ASP and KPN last night! Did you somehow forget about that, or did you purposely leave out that detail when I asked you earlier?’ I scream, body shaking with fury, and the second he registers my words, the colour disappears from his face, and he looks like he might throw up. He doesn’t say anything, and I give him the chance, but he doesn’t even bother to deny it, just stares at me in shock and the last shred of my hope that maybe Minho lied, that he exaggerated, or that maybe Jimin only told a couple of the guys disappears. ‘Yeah. That’s what I thought too. So forgive me for being such a bitch,’ I spit at him, and he opens his mouth to speak, no words coming out.

‘Go on. Say something. You’ve had plenty to say all night. So let’s hear it,’ I prompt sarcastically, and he just blinks before he whispers miserably; ‘I’m so sorry.’ ‘Sorry? You’re sorry? Oh, well, that’s okay! Everything’s solved now, huh? That just makes everything fine!’ I shout, and his head drops, eyes on the ground. ‘Not only did you tell everyone, you lied about it! So how can I pursue something with you when you’re already lying to me? I can’t trust a word you say!’ ‘I… I’m not defending myself… but you lied to me too, y/n. You told me that you told Jennie, and ‘a couple of the other girls’. But we both know that was a lie,’ he says slowly, stuttering as he speaks, and I’m dumbfounded, in complete and utter shock.

‘You… you don’t understand. I told the girls, my closest friends. We tell each other everything. I’ve been there for them through everything, and they’ve been there for me through everything. You told two entire fraternities of immature and idiotic man children! You don’t think there’s a difference between the two? I bet they congratulated you, right? On getting the girl that hates you into bed? Asked what I was like? What my body looks like? Whether I had good head game, or good pussy? Saw me as just a slut, another conquest, another notch in your belt? Two entire fraternities objectified me last night, and you can’t even try to tell me otherwise, because I can guarantee that every girl in this damn university has had an experience to prove that you frat boys are disgusting. So you can fuck yourself, Jimin, and don’t ever compare me telling the girls to you telling those idiots again,’ I spit out angrily, and he’s completely silent, confirming everything I’ve just said. ‘I’m done with you. Don’t ever speak to me again,’ I hiss before turning on my heel and marching to where Jen stands outside the Uber, smiling at me softly.

‘That was amazing. I’m so proud of you,’ she says when I reach her, and I smile back as she opens the car door, letting me climb in first. I slide across the seat, Jennie following me in, and when she shuts the door behind her, I feel my heart pulse with hurt, eyes filling with tears. And as the driver pulls away from the house and I turn to look out of the rear window, being met with the sight of Jimin stood there, watching the car drive away, his eyes shining with tears, I can’t hold back my own, sobbing as if my heart would break.

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duchessfics · 4 years

Text

Business and Pleasure Part 3

Billie x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): NSFW, Cunninlingus, Fingering, D/s Dynamics, Some Language

Summary: This is the first time seeing Billie since having sex with her, but how do you navigate your working obligations and your feelings for Billie? And does she even feel the same way or are you expendable?

Word Count: 6210

A/n: Here’s part 3! I have a family gathering so if there’s errors I’m sorry! I’m trying to post this really fast. 😬 This one is less fluffy, but I still think it’s not too angsty. Definitely not as angsty as A Lasting Mark pt. 4. 😅 I hope you enjoy!

Part 2

After having Saturday off, on Sunday morning you wake up at 7:00 in the morning to get ready for the day and find yourself putting a little more effort into your makeup and hair. It’s not that you didn’t before, but it feels different when you see a person who you like and realize the feelings are reciprocated.

By 8:00 you’re out the door and driving over to Billie’s house. However, on the way there you stop at a nearby Starbucks to get her usual order: a grande nitro cold brew in a venti cup with two shots of espresso, two pumps hazelnut syrup, one pump vanilla syrup, a splash of almond milk, and a light sprinkling of cinnamon on top. You just order an iced coffee with an extra shot of espresso to keep you going. But you’re not finished yet.

Next you drive to McDonalds and buy the medium’s guilty pleasure: a sausage biscuit with hash browns. There weren’t many details in the NDA you signed when hired by Billie, but one of them was not disclosing her favorite breakfast choice or how much she ate it.

After purchasing the items, you speed over to the medium’s house so the items are fresh and before you get out of the car, you put the sausage biscuit and hash browns into a Starbucks bag you specifically requested to partially conceal her meal of choice, leaving the discarded fast food bag in your car. Because you’re working today, you let yourself in and hear Billie speaking from the nearby sunroom.

So you walk to the room that’s always so sunny and warm because of the expansive windows that span from floor to ceiling along the length of one of the walls. This is one of your favorite rooms in Billie’s home because you can see her polished backyard and it never fails to impress anyone who sees this gorgeous view, including yourself.

Billie sits in one of her cushioned chairs facing the windows so the natural light illuminates her face while one person does her makeup and another person fixes her hair. When she sees you walking in, a smile forms on her lips making your cheeks warm.

Fuck. Keep cool. Just like you practiced: calm, cool and collected.

“Morning, sweetheart.” She greets you. You give her a smile back but try not to act out of the ordinary since there’s others around. It’s not like the stylists take much notice. They’re used to you being around and are busy working on Billie. But honestly…you want to tread carefully. You sport a polite smile when you reply, “Good morning, Miss Howard. I got a small breakfast for you.” Then you hand her the coffee and paper bag with her food items.

That makes her eyes light up and she tells you, “Thank you.” letting her fingers linger on yours for a second longer than necessary. Before you can get too flustered you back up take out your legal pad filled with notes from your tote bag and say, “While you eat and get your hair and makeup done, I can tell you what to expect for the interview.” After finishing your sentence, you glance up and she says, “Go on.” Waving her hand as an emphasis.

You look to your notes and try to hide how your hands tremble in nerves. It feels like it’s your first day with her all over again. Then you clear your throat and begin, “The person interviewing you will be Robin Harker. She works in the television and film section of the New York Times and has interviewed Jennifer Aniston and Chris Evans in the past year.”

You venture to look up again and her response is to nod you on with a casual smile while throwing her hash brown packet in the bag.

What did you expect? For her to drop everything and proclaim her love for you? Get real. This is Hollywood.

So you continue with your notes, “I read through those interviews to get an idea of what to expect for questions and came up with some possibilities.”

“In both interviews she asked about how they got started and I’m sure she’ll ask you too. A couple ideas for responses are to explain the first time you saw an apparition and what that felt like. Or you could explain what inspired you to start a TV show documenting something so intimate. Those reading won’t be interested in the production details of a tv show. Something that will keep their attention is reading about the phenomenon of capturing the paranormal on camera. Sensory terms always keep people interested.

“I would also expect a question about what a typical day on you tv show is like. People will want to know things like if you see ghosts every day, how you prepare and protect yourself, and what happens after the cameras shut off. Basically, how you decompress. My suggestion would be to use more general terms. Crystals and stones are very popular at the moment so you could mention that. On the other hand, I would stay away from talking about essential oils, perhaps choosing incense or sage instead. There could also be a certain tea you drink or a bath product you use.

“I don’t mean to repeat myself, but the key is incorporating the five senses. For example, with your white light of protection you could explain how that feels both physically and mentally. Maybe you feel an electricity to it. The reader wants to feel a special connection and resonate with your words. The happy middle is sounding exclusive enough to stand out, but also relatable.”

You pause for a moment, knowing this is a lot. But this time you don’t look up before speaking,

“I promise I’m almost done. The final thing I would expect is a question about the validity of communicating with the paranormal. Rather than trying to reason with science, it will be more effective to take the angle of how much we don’t know. And how the concept of communicating with ancestors or non-human beings is not new and has been around that for thousands if not millions of years. You’re just using the tools available in the 21st century to provide insight and more information.

“There is also a chance that she’ll mention the influx of phony mediums out to make money on people’s grief. But if you bring up the large amount of people who claim to be doctors, psychologists, lawyers, and other professionals and base their knowledge off of google searches it should be sufficient. You can also remind her that viewers can take as much or as little as they want from the show. But don’t put it on them too much. People don’t like being blamed even if it’s the truth.”

You take a deep breath and pause a moment before slowly asking, “Does that make sense?” When you look up from your notes her face is partially obscured by the make up artist applying finishing touches. But she hesitantly replies, “I think so.” You back up a little to keep out of the way and assure her, “In case you forget something, I put the basics of what I said on a couple of post-it notes.”

Right away the medium lets out a sigh of relief and tells you, “Oh, thank you, sweetheart.” Your body warms at the praise and you’re glad you don’t have to look at her directly in this moment. Instead you calmly reply, “You’re welcome. I’ll plug in an extension cord with your charger so there won’t be a risk of your computer shutting down. And I’ll set up the post-it notes so you’ll be ready to go.”

When you begin to walk away, you hear Billie praise, “You really are an angel.” You smile and look back to thank her. However, it feels like a punch to your gut when you see she looks at her reflection and speaks to the makeup artist.

Shit. That hurt more than it should. You should’ve never done anything. There’s a reason for professional boundaries.

Before anyone can take notice, you step over to the formal sitting room that’s set up to look casual without being used.

Fortunately, the laptop and table are already set up so you begin your search for an extension cord, a sun filter to make her look well-lit, her wireless headphones, a box of tissues, and a water bottle. Finding all of those items is a job in itself. Then you start to set up, placing the laptop so it’s able to keep connected to the charging cable and you use the laptop’s camera on yourself to find the best angle.

It’s much quicker to complete the tasks of setting the water bottle and tissue box nearby but out of frame. Next you place the sticky notes along the top border of her laptop screen, but not obscuring the camera. So if she needs to reference them, she won’t have to look down.

Finally, you position the filter and set her fully charged wireless ear buds that are still in their case right beside the laptop’s keyboard. Once you’re finished you stand back to admire the set-up, feeling proud of yourself.

You may have screwed up in fucking your boss, but you’re a damn good assistant.

“Well look at this.”

You whip around and hate the fact that your heart flutters when you hear Billie’s voice. This time she’s alone and saunters up to you with a familiar smirk. Before you can make direct eye contact with her eyes and melt into a puddle of affection, you back up and gesture to the table while saying, “I think this should be everything you need.” She looks to the table and lets out a satisfied hum, but quickly returns her gaze to yours before purring, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, y/n.”

Then she moves to take your hand, but in your panic and self-preservation you back away, stammering, “I-I actually need to make a couple phone calls. And emails. Plus, I-I wouldn’t want to mess up your make up.”

For the first time you actually see her suave expression crack and you feel horrible right away. You know she needs to go into this interview feeling good, so you take both of her hands with your own and soothe, “I’m sorry, Billie. I didn’t mean to come off harsh. After this I’ll have lunch all ready for us to eat.”

Her lips return a half smile, but her brown eyes still flicker with doubt. So you continue and genuinely mean it when you say, “I know you’ll knock this interview out of the park. She’ll love you.” Then you place a light kiss to her cheek, taking care to not disrupt her makeup.

By now her confident demeanor is restored and you ask, “Do you need anything else before the interview?” She smirks and lowly teases while squeezing your hands, “I can think of a couple things, but we wouldn’t have the time.” You roll your eyes at the comment, but smile and ask, “Well would you like anything specific for lunch?”

Billie pauses for a moment before answering, “I’ll take some…Mexican food. I’ll say a taco salad.” You nod and tell her, “One taco salad will be out there for you when you’re done.” Then you release her hands and say, “I have your phone so there won’t be any interruptions, but if you need anything at all I have your messages set up on your laptop. And I told housekeeping to not do anything too loud or come around to clean this part of the house for the next two hours. So you should be good to go.”

Her eyebrows raise and she comments, “You’ve really thought about everything, haven’t you?” The compliment makes you look down and stammer, “Well I—I try to.” She chuckles at your bashful demeanor and murmurs, “I should thank you for getting all of this ready for me, sweetheart.”

You dare to look at her face and reply, “I’m just doing my job. But I’m glad you’re happy with it. I’ll see you at lunch.” Then you wish her luck one more time before walking out. After closing the door, you lean back against it, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to re-center yourself.

Stop overthinking this. Pull yourself together and move on. You can look for another client after these two weeks. That’s it and you can make it two weeks. You’ve got this. You can handle anything for two weeks…

An hour and a half later Billie enters the kitchen to see you setting up her requested lunch with a freshly made strawberry lemonade to drink. She struts over and takes a seat at the island while saying, “Thank god. I’m starving.” You smile at her hyperbolic statement and watch her begin to eat. Then you return to your seat at the island next to the blonde to finish the remnants of your burrito.

Not wanting to stir up anything between you two, you ask, “Did the interview go alright?” She nods and replies after swallowing her bite, “It went exactly as your notes said. Of course there were some additional questions, but they were manageable.” Then the medium turns to face you and teases with grin, “It’s almost like you know what you’re doing.”

Your cheeks warm at the compliment and you look down to your plate, resting your chin on one of your hands as you twirl your fork in the remnants and murmur, “I only write down some tips. It’s your charisma that makes it good.” Billie chuckles and comments, “We make a good team.” For a moment you still your movements and glance at her out of the corner of your eye. But she’s looking to her salad. However, her gaze meets yours and she compliments, “Your hair and makeup look good today, sweetheart.”

She noticed. Billie Dean Howard noticed.

You can’t contain your smile but look back down to your plate before meekly saying, “Thank you.”

Billie continues to eat her meal while you throw away your takeout plate and utensils. Then you empty the clean dishes out of the dishwasher. However she breaks the silence by asking, “Did anything come up while I was in the interview?” You shake your head, finishing up as you respond, “Nothing for you to worry about. Just some requests for you to promote different products or companies.”

So she picks up her halfway finished beverage and tells you, “In that case I’m going to start packing things. But I’ll have my phone on me if you need me.” You automatically nod and try to conceal the crack in your voice when you reply, “Of course. And don’t worry about your trash. I’ve got it covered.” The blonde gives you her devastating smile and purrs, “You’re the best.” The butterflies in your stomach make a reappearance and you shyly tell her thank you before she steps out of the room.

After making sure she’s gone you let out a breath and lose the façade of being perfectly okay with everything. You try not to take it personally, but her distance affects your replies to phone calls and emails you respond to. Of course, you don’t sound upset or disgruntled. You remain professional, but don’t have the zeal and passion you usually have.

By late afternoon, you’ve contacted everyone who contacted you on her behalf. So you go onto google and search for PA openings. If nothing else you can leave at the height of her tv premier and make a clean break. However, before you can get to the second page, Billie texts you, “Could you come upstairs to my bedroom for a minute?”

Knowing her needs are your first priority, you exit out of the website and quickly reply, “Of course. Headed there now.” Then you trudge up the stairs, trying not to have any expectations.

When you enter her bedroom, she has numerous different clothing items laid out on the bed and you hear her rustling around in her massive closet that’s a room in itself. But she must hear you enter because she walks into the main room and says with a smile, “Y/n, just who I wanted to see.”

She sets the clothes that were draped over her arm onto the bed as she says, “I need some advice.” You step a little closer and reply, “I’ll try to help.” So she holds up one hanger that holds a silky, floral blouse and another that has a simple ivory undershirt with a dusty pink cardigan over it. Then she looks to you and asks, “Which one do you think looks better?”

You bite your lip and look between the tops, hoping this isn’t a test. Then you slowly answer, “I think they both look good…but the cardigan and shirt would be more conducive to the cooler temperatures in New York.” Billie grins and takes your advice right away, setting it next to her suitcase, however you hold up your hands and tell her, “Wait, I’m no fashion expert or anything. I can call your stylist to come over.”

The blonde chuckles and purrs, “Sweetheart, the only opinion I care about is yours. Now help me out with these other shirt options.”

The choices start off innocent enough, but soon she’s having you choose her sleepwear and intimates. While the whole thing feels a little arousing, you keep to the other side of her California king bed trying to be extra cautious. But she foils that plan by suggesting, “How about I try these dresses on and you can tell me which one looks better.” That makes you pause, but you can’t deny your curiosity to see her after she’s seen all of you.

And if she really didn’t want you to see her, she could change in her bathroom or closet.

So you nod and rasp with your suddenly dry throat, “Ok.” But her smile grows, and she asks in a voice dripping with innocence, “Y/n, would you be a dear and unzip me?”

You know exactly what she’s doing. But are you really upset? You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted since this morning.

At this point your throat feels too dry to speak so you dumbly nod and walk over to her side.

The medium’s eyes sparkle in lust and mischief when she purrs, “Thank you, sweetheart.” Then she turns so her back is to you and you walk up, feeling like you’re in a trance as so many emotions run through you at once.

The first thing you do is gather her silky smooth hair in your hand and drape it over one of her shoulders so most of it is out of the way, save for a few stray curls. Immediately her jasmine perfume envelops you and she doesn’t miss your deep inhale of the intoxicatingly sweet fragrance. Then your trembling fingers come up to the top of her dress and you take the zipper between your thumb and pointer finger, struggling to keep a grip of it with your shaky hands.

The room is quiet enough to hear the zipper slide down the back of her dress, stopping at the small of her back. You look to the well-endowed swell of her ass but flick your eyes up before she can catch you.

Billie twists her head to look back at you and once again your faces are inches apart from each other. Rather than saying anything, she leans towards you with hooded eyes and presses a light, questioning kiss. Then her eyes look to see your reaction and you reciprocate, slowly brushing your lips against hers.

Both of you move slowly while Billie fully turns around to face you and places her hands on the small of your back. The way you both take your time cautiously opening up to each other makes it seem like it’s your first kiss. But it feels nice to slow down and savor the moment.

This time when you smooth your hands up the exposed skin of her back she doesn’t protest. Rather she presses up against your body even more to get closer. So you work on the clasp of her bra and somehow undo on the first try.

Your lips part from each other and she helps you shrug off her dress and bra so the only items she wears are her panties and her pearl necklace. You pause and look over every part, trying to take in every detail. Meanwhile the blonde just smiles and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear while crooning, “You like what you see, sweetheart?” Your eyes scan up her toned middle, briefly pausing at her rounded, perky breasts, before ascending past the string of pearls on her neck to her proud face.

You’re practically drooling when you whimper, “Yes. Billie you look…god you look perfect.” Her cheeks threaten to turn red while her smile expands and she murmurs, “Just like you do.”

Automatically you shake your head and look down so your hair falls forward to guard your face. But her hands cup your face and guide you to look back at her. Her palms feel smooth against the sides of your face when she kisses your lips and affirms, “You are perfect, honey. Now, how about you make yourself more comfortable and take off those clothes for me.”

In the far reaches of your mind, the thought of confronting her about everything passes through. But Billie Dean Howard is here, completely exposed to you and you don’t want to stop.

Your eyes flick down and you grin as you reply, “O-ok.” So she backs up to let you pull off your shirt and bra. But when you move close, she places a finger on your sternum in the valley between your breasts and says, “Ah, ah, ah, pants too.” You bite your lip to conceal your demure smile, ducking your head as you tug your pants down. After kicking them aside you come back up to the medium and being to kiss her again.

While it felt nice to kiss Billie the other day, actually feeling her flesh brush and meld against yours makes it even better. Every time you think you’ve peaked; she takes you higher than before. When you break to catch your breath, Billie breathes, “Where do you want me, sweetheart?”

Your brows furrow and she grins before asking the same question. The thought of ordering her around sends a thrill through you and you look around the room before hesitantly saying, “On the edge of the bed.” The medium nods and playfully answers with a wicked grin, “Yes, mistress.”

Now that makes you laugh and tell her, “If anyone is a mistress it’s you.” You move her clothes that were laid out on the bed to the side so they won’t get in the way and the blonde helps while teasing, “I’ll grant you the title of mistress for one day.”

Without thinking you roll your eyes at the supposed ‘generosity,’ making Billie raise her eyebrow and say, “Unless you don’t want to do this?” You place your hands on her shoulders and push her to sit on the bed while quickly answering, “I do!”

Your intense reaction makes her chuckle and purr, “Well your wish is my command, sweetheart.” Your body simmers with arousal and you guide her legs apart enough to step between them. Then you look down at Billie’s face and your hands come up to cup her face. In response she slides her hands up to rest on the swell of your hips.

However, you raise your eyebrow and mimic her when you ask, “Did I give you permission to touch me?” Billie takes her hands away and looks up to you through her long lashes when she says, “Sorry, mistress.” Letting her lower lip jut out enough to give a perfect pout before biting down on it. The way she worries her lower lip drives you wild.

But you want to tease her more. Why not take this opportunity all the way?

So you lean in to kiss her lips, but when she leans up to meet you, you back up to kiss the tip of her nose.

Her darkened eyes glow and the blonde chuckles before murmuring, “Such a tease, y/n.” That makes you giggle and this time when you lean down to kiss her, you meet her desired location. And even though your lips and tongues intertwine with each other, Billie stays true to her word and lets you lead her along. So you keep going, and don’t move her hands back when she smooths them up your thighs and pulls you closer to her after gripping your hips.

For once she’s the one who gasps for air and you take the opportunity to place slow, deliberate kisses along her jawline down to her neck. Your lips gently kiss and suck at the delicate skin of her neck, but pause when Billie moans, “Don’t get me wrong, sweetheart, this feels amazing. But I don’t know if the makeup artist will appreciate having to cover multiple hickeys for filming tomorrow.”

On no. You completely forgot about that.

You automatically back up and stammer, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Billie. I never even though about that.” She silences you with a kiss and soothes, “It’s ok, sweetheart.” But the medium can tell you’re pulled out of the immersion so her thumbs brush along the swell of your hips and she purrs with a smile, “Now what do you want me to do, mistress?”

Her reassuring smile makes you smile and respond, “Stay.” Then you gently kiss down her neck to her collarbone. Along the way your lips brush against her pearl necklace, but when she moves to take it off you command, “No.” Her eyebrows raise, but she grins and answers, “Yes mistress.” Those words send shivers down your spine and by the low hum of amusement emitted from her throat you can tell she knows.

Then you resume your descent starting at her collarbones down to the swell of her luscious breasts. The medium gasps when you take one of her nipples in your mouth and tease her by sucking and nibbling at her sensitive bud. You look up to her face to see she closely watches you use your mouth on her one nipple while you tease the other with your fingers.

Then you switch sides and by the time you’re finished with her buds they are peaked and stiff. The sound of breathy moans and whimpers is unfamiliar to your ears, but progressively gets louder when you continue down to her navel. After teasing it with your tongue enough to make her gasp, you back up and pull off her lacy, cream-colored thong.

Once the garment is cast aside you take a moment to look at her most intimate area practically dripping with arousal. Then you look up to Billie with wide eyes and your mouth slightly gaped in shock. Before you can ask, she smiles and croons, “That’s all for you, baby.”

That’s all you. She gets that aroused because of you.

Your eyes gloss over with a concoction of happiness and unbridled lust and rather than taking the time to instruct, you grasp her legs and place them over your shoulders. Then you lean close and inhale her sweetness before delving your tongue into her velvety folds.

Her muscled calves flex against your back and she moans, “Oh god.” as your mouth sucks and licks at every part of her. But she lets out a guttural moan when you find her clit. Her low sounds of pleasure go straight to your own soaked pussy and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs in need. You look up to her face while you continue to tease her sensitive pearl and see she watches you with lust-blown eyes and her lower lip worried between her teeth.

You grin and back away before taunting, “Now don’t hold back, Billie. I want to hear all of those pretty little sounds you make.” That makes the blonde toss her head back in laughter before breathily praising, “Wow, you’re pretty good at this whole dominatrix role.” Even now her praise drives you wild. You grin up at her and reply, “I learned from the best.” Before diving back in.

This time her head falls back for an entirely different reason and she groans, “Fuck, sweetheart, that feels so good.” Her words make your stomach warm in arousal and you increase your movements driven by her praises in words and moans of pleasure.

Before long Billie crosses her ankles behind your back, effectively pulling you close to her pussy and unable to back up like before. But you couldn’t care less. Eating her out feels like everything you want and more. Your mouth mercilessly sucks and nips at her sensitive nub and she whimpers in a higher tone than even her regular tone, “Just like that, baby. I’m almost there.”

You happily listen to her request and within a minute her legs lock up, keeping you in a vice-like grip while she gasps. Then she cries out and unravels before your eyes, moaning and whimpering in a way that sounds like music to your ears while you lick up all of the sweet nectar she provides.

Before you get the chance to rile her up, she takes her legs off of you and scoots further back on the bed as she breathes, “C’mere sweetheart.” You whine at leaving her sweet core but listen and she guides you to straddle her lap so you face each other again.

You cross your legs behind the blonde so your ankles rest against the small of her back and wrap your arms around her neck before dipping your head to kiss Billie’s lips. She smiles against you and slides her hands up your back while kissing back, not afraid of getting a taste of herself. Even though you wished to remain buried in the juncture of her thighs a moment ago, being held close in her embrace as she takes your breath away is nowhere near a downgrade.

When you pause to catch your breath, you still keep your forehead down against hers and ask, “I take it you liked it?” She gives that warm chuckle that feels like an embrace in itself and purrs, “Oh I loved it, sweetheart.” Then you let out a squeak of surprise at her hand sliding beneath the elastic band of your panties.

How did she sneak her hand around to your front without you even noticing?

Your small sound causes her to smirk and she says with a dramatically innocent voice, “Let’s see how you’re doing.” And that smirk on her lips morphs into a shit-eating grin when her fingers slide down to find your core practically dripping with slick.

Your hips roll of their own accord when the pads of her two fingers brush against your clit. The instinctual reaction prompts Billie’s eyebrows to raise and she begins to make torturously slow circles over your sensitive bud. Meanwhile your arms shift so your hands can grip her shoulders while whimpering, “I’m not going to last long.”

The blonde giggles at your claim and leans up to kiss your lips, gradually moving her hand faster. Then she gets closer so she’s right beside your ear when she murmurs, ‘Are you all worked up from telling me what to do?”

Oh, you are definitely not going to last long at all.

A gasp leaves your lips and you shift in her lap responding, “Yes.” Now she moves her fingers in a steady motion and purrs, “But I think you liked something else too. I think you liked licking my pussy until I came. Is that what’s got you all hot and bothered, sweetheart? Acting so dirty and eating me out has you nearly creaming yourself?”

Her words prompt you to cry out, “Oh god, yes!” squeezing her shoulders and letting your head fall forward.

Her pearls feel cool against your perspiring forehead and her fingers speed up to the point of making you get those pre-orgasm twitches as Billie taunts, “Are you gonna cum, y/n?” Your eyes slam shut and you moan, “Yes!”

However somewhere in the recesses of your mind you remember her comment about good girls and whip your head up to look at Billie before blurting out, “Wait! I mean, can I please cum Billie?” The golden flecks in her darkened orbs spark in approval and with a satisfied smirk she responds, “Good girl. Go ahead and cum for me, baby.”

Your eyes slam shut just before a burst of white light shows up and you desperately cling to the medium, toes curling as high-pitched moans and whimpers fall out of you.

This time your aftershocks pass sooner and when she withdraws her two coated fingers you watch her languidly suck off any remnants of your juices. You’re still in a daze when she asks, “Do you wanna know what you taste like?”

Your brows furrow, but…you can’t deny that you are a little curious. And Billie had no problem indulging in herself. So you nod, albeit hesitantly. She chuckles at your timid behavior and teases, “I promise it’s good.” Then she takes your chin by her thumb and index finger to tilt your head down to meet her lips.

The taste has a tangy bite to it but also a subtle sweetness similar to the blonde, but not quite the same. Before you even realize it, your tongues are tangling with each other and your lips search and press for one another.

It feels so nice to be so close to Billie without all of the glitz and glamour. You’re together, unguarded, and sharing a passionate exchange for both parties. All that has stock in the world is you and her. However, eventually you have to breathe.

So you reluctantly break from her lips and come closer to tuck your head into the crook of her neck. At the same time your hands move to her back so you can hug her close. Her lips come down to rest on the crown of your head and you feel her lips curve into a smile. Then she shifts so her cheek rests against you, softly teasing, “I still need to try those dresses on.”

However she makes no move to get up.

So you snuggle further in, tightening your arms and legs around her and murmur into her hair, “Pack the red one.” She chuckles and smoothes her hands along the length of your back while asking, “What about the other one?”

You let out a sigh of contentment and bury your face further into the bend of her neck to conceal your embarrassment as you reply, “Than one looks good…But the red one…it’s flattering at all angles…and it hugs your form well…Trust me the red one will turn heads.”

She laughs and leans close to your ear when she murmurs, “I’ll pack it for you, baby.” Her voice immediately calms your nerves and you feel at home in her arms. After sitting in silence for a moment, you mumble against her neck, “What would you like for dinner?”

She slides her hands down to grip your ass as she replies, “You.” And that provokes your higher-toned schoolgirl giggle. Then you say, “Ok besides that.” Her lips trail down the side of your face until she reaches your jawline and murmurs, “How about…Italian.”

You feel her hands massaging your butt and before things get too heated you ease into sitting up straight to see her brown eyes slowly scanning over you. But you cup her face with your hands and guide her to look at your face, saying, “I’ll get dinner ready and you can finish packing. Ok?”

She grins and turns her face to kiss one of your palms before she teases, “As long as you can be dessert.” Then she moves further up to kiss the pulse point on your wrist and purrs, “And an evening snack.” Then she kisses the inside of your forearm, looking to you with a mischievous grin as she continues, “And a midnight treat.”

You shake your head at her behavior, but chuckle and respond, “Ok.” The medium smirks in victory and releases you from her hold. You slowly stand up, making sure to not lose your balance and throw on your clothes.

Before you walk out, Billie takes your shoulder and turns you to face her. You look to her with a questioning gaze and she pecks your lips, but keeps close when she purrs, “I’ll see you in a bit. Oh, and be warned, my stamina is insatiable.” That makes you giggle, and you assure her, “I think I’m up for the challenge.” Then Billie releases you with a smile and you walk out to the kitchen, not regretting spending the night here whatsoever.

Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @find-me-a-constellation, @cordwliagoode, @psychobitchtess, @midnight-lestrange, @mysweetdelia, @venablesbitch, @peachesandlesbians, @nerdaroo, @cordeliafoxxe, @leskaksel, @lovelymspaulson, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @whatabluddymess, @natasha-danvers

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

#AHS #ahs fanfic #ahs murder house #ahs hotel #ahs apocalypse #ahs billie dean howard #billie dean howard #billie dean howard imagine #billie x reader #business and pleasure

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msjr0119 · 4 years

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We Belong

Part 6

Evangeline Bruley returns to Cordonia to take over her families Duchy. She was betrothed to the now King, however he is engaged to Duchess Riley but still has lingering feelings towards his first love. What will happen during her time back in Cordonia?

Just using combined tag list, if you want to be removed let me know 😊

@pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @jared2612 @desiree-0816 @gardeningourmet @twinkle-320 @queenjilian @forthebrokenheartedthings-blog @princessleac1 @scarletreesex

Warnings: Swearing

*****

Do you know what your lover and the king did the night of the Valtoria lantern festival? They are both lying to you and Riley. Let’s hope you don’t become pregnant, like poor Riley- you can still escape. From an old friend x

Evie could feel her breathing increase, uncontrollably- her hand shaking as she kept re-reading the text, trying to comprehend what it meant. Quickly screenshoting it, she immediately deleted the evidence- deciding to put it to the back of her mind for now. Drake returned to her, playing Florence nightingale seeing to her injuries- not that he needed to, but he wanted to.

“Did you mean what you said?” Drake asked hesitantly, expecting that it just had been a spur of the moment thing.

“Yes.” Not sounding very confident, Drake had an inkling that she didn’t mean it- that maybe she felt the need to say it as he told her first. “Drake? What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’d only lie to protect you.” Evie’s mind started thinking back to the mysterious text. “But it’s nothing. I just ... I don’t know what our relationship is... are we just friends? Friends with benefits? I just feel like you said it because I said it first.”

“Drake... we are friends. We’ve been friends for years. We grew up together... but now...”

“Now?”

“Now, due to Olivia’s meddling... I’ve realised that you’ve been here all along. I’ve realised that these feelings have been probably been here all along- hidden. Since I came back, you’ve always had my back and..” Focusing her gaze on to him, cupping his cheeks- she looked at him with sincerity.

“And I’ve fallen in love with you.” Drake searched her eyes for reassurance that she was being sincere, not knowing if he had heard her correctly.

“Evangeline Grace Bruley, I love you.”

“How do you know my middle name?”

“I told you, I may have been in the shadows as we grew up- but I know everything about you.”

“Okay then smarty pants, what’s my favourite colour?”

“Violet.” Lucky guess.

“One point to you, what was my dream job if I wasn’t noble?”

“Lawyer, hence why you did politics and law at university.” Again lucky guess. It could have swung either way. That smirk. I need to wipe that smug look off that gorgeous face.

“What’s my favourite movie?”

“You was a sucker for titanic when we was younger- I never understood why you and Maxwell would go through a box of Kleenex. Your favourite Disney film is beauty and the beast.” And I know why, because you are beautiful like Belle -to most people I’m probably the beast in this scenario.

“Fuck.” Drake couldn’t wipe the smug expression off his face, knowing this time that he was in fact the intelligent one. Wishing she had chosen more complicated questions, her mind wondered about how much more he knew about her.

“I take notice in people who I’m interested in Evie. I know you want to have two children, one boy and one girl- you want to call the girl Grace to have some link to you, and the boy Thomas- Tommy for short.”

“How can you remember me saying that? I mentioned that years ago, when Maxwell asked us about our future wishes.”

“Mainly because you was due to marry Liam, and his face grimaced at the name choices. Then when Maxwell asked him I recall him saying ‘I wish that Leo doesn’t fuck up Cordonia.’ Bet he wished that he could foresee what the future was actually going to look like.”

“What a dick. Good job I got out of that marriage arrangement then, or our heirs would have been nameless. ‘At least I can marry for love’ he also said, acting all smug.” Both laughing at the memory, she also remembered that Drake refused to answer the question when it was his turn. Intrigued as to what it was, she wasn’t going to ask him- he always had his guards up- maybe in time he would tell her if she was to mention it to him.

“So what are we doing for the rest of the day?”

“We are going to the palace.”

“I’ve just come from there.”

“I need to talk to Riley, there’s lots to talk about due to the upcoming wedding.” Good excuse Evie. “You’d never hurt me would you Drake?”

“Never.”

“I don’t want this relationship to begin on lies... I want us to be honest with each other, open.”

“Relationship to begin?” As in dating?

“When a very handsome rugged commoner and a Duchess cross that friend zone... they become an official couple.”

“You want us to be official?” Evie nodded, he could swear that he saw her eyes sparkle. “Lina, will you be my girlfriend?”

“You already know the answer, I kind of instigated it. I swear if you’re lying to me about anything Drake, you know who my best friend is. I love you.” Drake gulped, as he pulled her in for a hug. “I love you Evie, go and get ready. I’ll let Liam know we are on our way in case he’s in a meeting.”

Liam we need to tell the girls the truth now. I’m not losing Evie. We are coming to the palace- she said she needed to talk to Riley. Olivia may as well be included- Bastiens probably told her anyway.

*****

Coming up to the palace with Drake. We need to talk ASAP! Evie x

Riley paced up and down the hallway waiting for Liam to finish his meeting. He hadn’t been himself for the last week- and she was paranoid that Evie had let slip her secret, but he was waiting for her to come to him first.

“Hello, what are you doing? Are you okay?”

“I need to tell you something. Evie is coming with Drake but I need to tell you before.” I need to tell you something too. Guiding her to their quarters, Riley sat down on the edge of the bed- fidgeting she had hoped that he wouldn’t berate her from keeping this secret hidden.

“Erm, so. You remember the day that Evie returned and I was in a foul mood- you all assumed it was due to her....”

“It was wasn’t it?”

“Liam, the reason she took that beating- put herself in that danger.....”

“Riley. What is it?” Hearing his stern tone of voice, made her jump- never hearing him speak to her in this way, she knew it was now or never.

“I wanted to surprise you on our wedding night. You’ve done everything for me, you’ve given me everything. I wanted to give you something for a change. But she figured me out.... she protected me and our child. I’m pregnant.”

“You was drinking in Vegas.”

“No I wasn’t. Evie was buying me ‘vodka and lemonade’ without the vodka.” Placing his hand over her stomach, realisation finally sunk in.

“You’re having my baby?”

“I’m having your baby. You’re not mad are you? I wanted to do something sweet, I had it all planned out. I bought a box, and I put a baby grow in it- with the pregnancy test, and a card... look.” Rushing over to the wardrobe,she retrieved a box that was neatly wrapped with a golden ribbon. Liam opened it, of course he was annoyed that she didn’t tell him straight away- but he was thrilled beyond words. Baby Rhys arriving Summer 2020.

“Ri, this is the best premature wedding gift I could ask for. Are you feeling okay? Do you need anything?”

“Liam, I’m fine. We’re fine.”

“I love you Riley Brooks, and I love you too. I can’t wait to meet you.” Kissing her stomach, he stood up- picking her up, she wrapped her legs around him. Placing her onto the bed, he couldn’t control himself.

“I’m making love to my wife to be, my queen and the mother of my baby. Drake and Evie can wait. We need to celebrate.”

*****

Arriving downstairs both flustered, they greeted Drake and Evie- who were waiting for them holding hands. Liam suggested that they all sat outside due to it being a sunny day.

“So what’s up?” Riley asked Evie, knowing her eyes were watching the two men’s every movement- wondering what they were whispering to each other.

“I got this text, has Liam said anything? And I thought you should know that me and Drake... we are together.”

“He’s an amazing guy Evie, he’s loyal and will look after you. Do you know who it is? An old friend?”

“I know he is, I don’t want this to ruin all of our friendships though. That’s why I wanted to tell you first. No, I assumed it was Madeleine at first. What the hell have they done?” Both women looked over towards their men, trying to read their body language.

“She’s crazy but she would cause trouble to your face not via a text. I guess we are going to have to find out.”

*****

Olivia strut towards the men unusually late- usually she was punctual for gatherings, Liam gave her a kiss on the cheek, as he always did with all the women. Drake pulled her into a big tight hug- which was unexpected, and which she found highly disturbing.

“Get your hands off of me now Walker. What’s up with you?”

“Liv, I know you hate me and the feelings usually mutual. But I want to thank you, for bringing Evie back.” Olivia looked at him, not knowing what he was going to say- but would accept the praise anyway. “Myself and Evie, we’re together. Officially. And that’s all down to you Liv.”

“No Drake, that is down to you being an alcoholic- your drunk confession to Bastien. Down to Liam being the charmer that he is wooing Riley back. I did nothing, Cordonia is her home- she needs to be here, I just kept planting seeds in her mind. But if you hurt her....” Holding his hands in the air in defeat, he could predict what she was going to say- it was her catchphrase after all.

“I know, you’ll stab me with your dagger.”

“Damn right Walker. I hope those two have a glass of champagne waiting for me .”

Olivia sat with Riley and Evie, the queen to be explained to Olivia the reasoning behind Evie protecting her on that fatal night. Olivia loved Liam as if he was her brother, but she hoped that now he was expecting a baby with Riley that he would push all feelings for Evie aside. The two men sheepishly walked over to the women, noticing all their eyebrows raise up in sync.

“Riley, Evie. There’s something we both need to tell you... we don’t want to lose either of you, but you have to know that what we did was to protect the two of you.” Liam began before looking at Drake for reassurance, slowly losing his stoic expression.

“Because we both love you, and care for you both- we avoided you seeing or hearing the news. The night at Valtoria, we could have lost you Evie- Liam was just defending you both as I was.... Tariq and Neville are dead.”

Liam explained what had happened, that he needed some air- and found them in the grounds. Explaining that he caused injuries to them- leaving Drake’s involvement out of it. They both reiterated how once they left, the two men were breathing and moving still- and until the autopsies returned it was unknown if Liam’s actions was the cause of their deaths.

“I had a text, asking if I knew what you both did that night. Drake you lied to me, you said that you punched the wall.”

“I didn’t lie, I did that too. I swear on Bartie’s and Savannah’s life I did that. You were terrified in your sleep, I was angry. The things they said about you both, about my dad, about my family- the anger built back up again. I’m not a bad guy Evie, and neither is Liam.”

“Well I’m glad they are dead, arseholes. Serves them right. Congratulations gentlemen, not only are you a king and a commoner but now serial killers- ask for a dagger next time, I’ll be happy to assist. Now all of you kiss and make up, we have a wedding to plan.” Olivia grabbed the bottle of champagne, feeling like a gooseberry. Sipping it as if it was water, she had hoped that it would block the mental image of the love surrounding her.

“Are we okay?” Drake asked quietly, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

“Why couldn’t you tell me straight away?”

“You’ve been through enough. I’m sorry.”

“This was the reasoning behind us coming. I told Riley about the text, I believed it was maddy- I don’t know who it is.”

“Don’t worry about it. It probably is her. Or Kiara? What are they going to do? Put the king in a cell? Force Leo to take over the throne?”

“Could you imagine Leo as King? I wouldn’t trust him. I’d trust you more.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment then. But no thank you, I don’t want a title. I’m just Drake Walker. Talking about the wedding, because your very handsome boyfriend is the best man- I was going to treat you to a new outfit for the day, what do you think?”

“I think that I am very lucky.. but what’s the catch?”

“No catch, I just want to spoil you- you deserve it.”

“I don’t deserve you. I can’t lose you Drake, and Riley can’t lose Liam- how are you both getting out of this mess? There may not be a wedding at this rate.”

“We’ve got alibis- fake alibis, besides Bastien is on to it. I’m not going anywhere, not now that I’ve got you in my life.”

Olivia noticed Drake passionately kiss his girl, not caring about the public affection in front of his closest friends.

“We’ll carry this on later, you need to sort down below out Drake. It’s rude to point.” Evie said in a seductive manner, she wasn’t the only one to notice his bulge. “Walker put your dick down, I’m going to vomit.”

“Sorry Duchess Olivia, I cant help it with this beautiful woman in front of me.” Rolling her eyes back, she was happy for the two of them but also slightly jealous that she had to wait for Bastien to be off duty for her to do that.

*****

Bastien interrupted the friends, discussing the wedding- whispering in Liam’s ear that he had a visitor. Liam excused himself, knowing exactly who it was- Olivia jumped into Bastiens arms, forcing a kiss onto lips before he escorted the king away.

“Duke Farbridge, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Your majesty, it’s been a long time.” Liam walked back over to his friends with Tobias who immediately spotted Evie.

Oh you have to be fucking kidding me, Olivia muttered to herself as she heard Evie’s glass of sparkling water slip through her fingers, her body went into instant shock as the glass shattered around her. Looking as if she had seen a ghost, the friends witnessed him smirking at her whilst she looked panic stricken.

“Excuse me, I have to go to the toilet.” Grabbing her wrist as she walked passed him, it wasn’t a tight grip, but it was enough to prevent her moving further away. “Get your fucking hands off of me Toby.”

“Aren’t you a lovely surprise, did you miss me darling?”

“Fuck you!” Forcing his hand off her, she focused on getting away without any explanation to her friends about how they knew each other.

“Don’t you fucking dare go after her!” Olivia kneed him in the groin- forcing him to the ground, she knew of him but he didn’t know of her.

“Ah so you must be the psycho best friend. Olivia?” He whimpered, as he slowly stood back up, adjusting his posture- he scowled at the red head who mimicked the same facial expression towards him.

“You touch her again, and I will kill you. How the fuck do you know Liam?”

“I’m a Duke from England, our parents were close when we were younger- allies. I’m attending King Liams wedding on behalf of our Duchy.”

“Oh well I’m sure King Liam and Duchess Riley will change their minds once they know how you hurt their friend. Broke her heart, just to get your dick wet with some slapper.”

“It was a mistake. A drunken mistake. She still stayed with me after that, didn’t that prove that she forgave me? That she loves me?”

“No you arsehole! She stayed with you because she felt she couldn’t do any better. She rung me every day crying. Liam do something, before I do. I’m going to find my friend.”

*****

Liam discussed that it wasn’t a good idea for Toby to attend his wedding, he was much closer to Evie and didn’t want to cause friction. Toby understood, but was hoping that closer to the time Liam would change his mind- believing that Cordonia needed as many people on her side as possible due to the recent attacks. Drake now understood what Olivia meant with their discussion at Valtoria.

“Why are you being nice?”

“Because you two morons are obviously falling in love with each other. I know she didn’t sleep with Liam, and I know that you didn’t sleep with Riley. However I do know that you returned to Evie’s room with a lipstick mark and was smelling all like Riley. Evie has got trust issues, you wouldn’t know about the reasoning why but she only gives her heart away to men who she truly believes she likes. One man messed that up for her, so when you returned her natural instinct thought you’d hurt her too.”

Wanting to rush to Evie’s aid, Olivia and Riley advised him not to. Explaining that she would come back in her own time, Drake couldn’t help but feel useless. All he wanted to do was see that she was okay, to comfort her. After much deliberation, he had thought about taking Evie away for a few days- getting away from the mess in Cordonia and the ghosts of her past.

Evie wandered through the maze wanting to be left alone for a while, memories of her childhood overrode the memories of her poor relationship with Toby, whilst the two of them were at university together.

“So you managed to fight four men off, one of those men was me. Shame you didn’t recognise me. It would have given you less of a fright today. I assume you received my text?”

#trr #trr choices #trr fanfic #trr we belong #drake x evie #drake x mc #drake walker #trr evie bruley #liam x riley #liam rhys #riley brooks #olivia nevrakis

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jojiship · 4 years

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Studio Ghibli Films: Thoughts & Ranking

I have been binging Studio Ghibli (and other anime films) since May. I saw a lot of people in Youtube rank them and I decided to do it as well. While I don’t have a camera to record myself, I decided to post my ranking of its films. First of all, I want to say that this is quite a subjective ranking and it’s personal. These are my opinions and of course, everyone can have opinions of their own. Second of all, I think all of these films have their good sides, but there are ones that I enjoyed and there are ones I didn’t enjoy. Either way, I recommend people to watch all of these films. You won’t regret watching most of them.

This post ranks the films from 10th to 6th. Obviously, there will be spoilers ahead, so you’ve been warned.

10. The Tale of Princess Kaguya (2013) – I had heard the name Kaguya before (I watch Kaguya-Sama: Love is War and I read its manga). I knew the name came from this old Japanese tale, but I never was curious enough to look it up. To my luck, I didn’t have to search it up because Studio Ghibli had made an adaption of this tale. Now, I enjoyed this film a lot. From the beginning to the end, it held my attention which is something the other twelve films couldn’t do. I loved how fast Kaguya grew up and I liked how everyone called her Lil’ Bamboo. Her relationship with Sutemaru was captivating to see in the beginning. One of the things I enjoyed the most in this film was that it showed old Japan and its traditions. Seeing the outfits, the paintings, the music and the instrument Kaguya played etc. I love when Kaguya tells the five noblemen to obtain the five treasures they were comparing her to. It also showed that they didn’t see her as a person, but rather a valuable and beautiful object. When the Emperor came and tried to take her, my whole body was screaming. He was disgusting and I was so relieved that he ended up leaving. The ending was beautiful, but sad. I had hoped that Kaguya would get her happy ending in Earth, I was such an idiot to think so. The ending ripped my heart, especially knowing that she forgot all about her memories on Earth. The animation was also amazing and I truly enjoyed how different compared to other Studio Ghibli films. Takahata was such an incredible director and he should be praised more.

9. The Wind Rises (2013) – No wonder this film was Oscar nominated. What a film it was. It was such an incredible film with such a good story, message, characters and soundtrack. It’s another film that features planes, but I definitely enjoyed it more than Porco Rosso. I relate to Jiro because just like him, I can’t see without my glasses. It broke my heart that he couldn’t become a pilot because of his eyesight, but at least, he became an engineer. The dreams with Caproni always put me in awe because you could see the passion Jiro had for planes and their craft. Seeing a character be so focused, passionate and determined took my whole attention away. Usually, I find scenes of modeling vehicles boring, but I enjoyed every scene of Jiro doing so. The romance was beautiful to watch. The way they reunited again, the scene with the flying paper plane was so authentic and just wonderful. It hurt when I found out that Naoko had lung hemorrhage. Knowing that she did, I knew she was going to pass away. Their relationship seemed so realistic and believable to me. There was no doubt that Jiro and Naoko loved each other. The scene where the wind blows and Jiro is distracted by it, made my whole body ache because I knew that Naoko had passed away. The end scene where Jiro shows regret on building planes for war in a dream with Caproni was heart wrenching. It’s true that his craft was used to kill people and that the pilots all died in the war. It was devastating whilst being beautiful at the same time. While Caproni reminds him that he fulfilled his dream, Jiro’s words are still true. I died inside when Naoko showed up and told her husband to live his life to the fullest which I hope Jiro did.

8. Only Yesterday (1991) - I initially thought that I wouldn’t like Only Yesterday. No one really liked it and from some rankings I’ve seen in different social media platforms, it always ranked quite low. Many people complained about the pineapple scene, but personally, that was one of my favourite scenes of the whole film. Taeko tried her best to enjoy that pineapple and say that it was the king of fruits. It upset her when she realized that it didn’t taste as well as she thought. She was trying to convince herself and her family. The scenes where periods were discussed were amazing. Usually, they are never mentioned in films, but I liked that it was a plot point of the film. I love how one of Taeko’s friends said that her mom told her that it was nothing to be ashamed about. Like yes, tell your daughters that periods are normal! (Tell boys too). Also, I related in that scene where Takeo didn’t understand fractions. While I did get them quite fast, I was quite bad in math during my high school years. That kind of talk leaves scars in children, people! Although, I hated how her family spoke of her when she got a bad grade. The scene when the boy who crushed on Taeko asks her if she likes cloudy, rainy or sunny day made me smile so much. I felt so giddy during that scene and by the end of it, I was acting like Takeo did. People always praise Miyazaki (for good reason), but always tend to forget Takahata and his incredible films. Only Yesterday was a beautiful story of a woman in her twenties who was still figuring out herself. I loved how the present connected with the past and I love the contrast on how Taeko saw the world. I loved the ending when she returned to the countryside alongside young Taeko and her classmates. It was a relatable film about a woman trying to figure out herself whilst thinking about her past.

7. Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) - I know some of you are going to be mad that this film is number seven. I’ve seen this film be talked about so much in many social media platforms and many people rank it as number one. While I loved this film and its characters, I have to say that I’ve enjoyed the other films after this more. Howl’s Moving Castle is a beautiful tale that gives you a lot of lessons about war, love, compassion and age. It’s quite enjoyable from the beginning. Sophie is such an amazing and interesting female protagonist. I love that she was an old lady for a big time of the film and her compassion truly was the best part of her. The way she took care of the woman who cursed her was something that I didn’t expect. If I had been her, I would have thrown the Witch of The Waste away. Howl was an amazing character as well. Every little quirk and trait of him was captivating and allured you to him. No wonder Sophie fell for him and no wonder so many people here thirst for him. Calcifer, Markl, Suliman and the Witch of the Waste were enjoyable as well. I quite loved the soft world building of Howl’s Moving Castle and the way the castle was built. The ending was a bit rushed and it felt out of place. I definitely would have preferred a better ending and the ending is a reason why this film is in this rank. However, the last scene with Markl playing with the dog, the witch chilling on a chair and Howl and Sophie kissing is chef’s kiss.

6. Kiki’s Delivery Services (1989) – The third Studio Ghibli I’ve ever watched. Before I watched every film of the studio, Kiki’s Delivery Services was my favourite. While it’s still an amazing film that I enjoy and probably rewatch many times, it’s not even in my top five anymore. Either way, the film is still amazing. While Kiki is only thirteen, a lot of young adults who are living by themselves can relate to her story. Seeing Kiki struggle with her new job, new life and being a witch, was something that needs to be shown more often in media. I loved the scenes where she delivered the goods whether it was the stuffed cat or the dish that old lady made. I loved watching those scenes as a kid and I still love watching them as a twenty year old. When Kiki can’t understand what Jiji is saying, my whole stomach fell because I knew what was happening. I remembered that scene all too well and watching Kiki realize it as well made me want to hug her. Her friendship with Tombo was cute to watch too. He was so excited to get to know her, but for the longest time, she was so cold with him. To be honest, I didn’t understand why she was so cold when his friends came, but now, I know she was intimidated. I guess I never felt anything like that before and that was why I didn’t understand her in that moment. The ending was one of the best I’ve seen. Kiki regained her power, confidence and ended up saving Tombo from falling. She found herself again and stopped having her witch’s block. This is something that not many people struggle and don’t overcome in their lives, so, watching Kiki do it is some sort of help for many people.

#studio ghibli #hayao miyazaki #isao takahata #studio ghibli films #rankings #the tale of princess kaguya #the wind rises #only yesterday #howl's moving castle #kiki's delivery services #films

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mylittlemarston · 4 years

Note

Hello 🖤 may I ask you to write 52 John. freader or gnread it’s up to you.

OHMYGOD i enjoyed writing this so much. I imagined myself in the situation to help me write it, so I hope that helped make it descriptive!! Here it is!!

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warnings: none

FLUFF

word count: 2008

tags: @gangofgunslingers

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52 “I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death”

John Marston x Female Reader

You’ve been in the camp for about a year now, found by Arthur after you were thrown into a fight at the local saloon. He saw that you had potential, fighting for yourself pretty damn good. He brought you to their camp in Blackwater, and almost immediately the girls there became your friends. Ms. Grimshaw gave you a bit of a tour, introducing you to everyone. Everyone introduced themselves and started a conversation, but there was one person who didn’t—

John Marston.

“Mr. Marston, this is Y/N.” He looked up at you but quickly looked down to the ground, kicking the rocks underneath him and grumbling a quiet “Hey.” You could’ve sworn that you saw him blushing, but didn’t want to say anything else to him if he wasn’t ready to talk to you. Instead, Grimshaw took you to the next person to introduce you to.

There was something about him, whether it be his unique voice or the way he walked. Whatever it was, it caused butterflies to flourish in your stomach every time he talked to you or you got paired with him for a job. You knew he had a son and a girlfriend, but that didn’t stop your imagination from running wild. You often wondered at night what it would feel like with his arm wrapped around your waist when you walked somewhere or what it would feel like to run your fingers through his hair while he dozes off with his head laid in your lap as you read a book. What his lips would feel like against yours after he comes back from a dangerous job. You know these things won’t happen, but a girl can dream… right? You shake the thoughts away and standing up, stretching while you do. It’s a peaceful and pretty morning, sunny and breezy. You get dressed and head out of your tent, making your way to get a cup of coffee and sit by the warm campfire. You slowly sip the warm liquid and close your eyes, taking in the morning. You hear footsteps behind you and you open your eyes again. “Mornin’ Y/N.” It’s John. You two are friends and jokingly flirt when you need to at the saloon to prevent anything from happening to the other. John has gotten shit-face drunk and flirted for real, but you just shook it off-

maybe he thinks you’re Abigail or something.

John takes a seat next to you, drinking his own coffee as well. You smile and turn to him. “Good morning, John.” He smiles back at you and relaxes, closing his eyes. He scoots a little closer to you and rests his hand behind where your sitting, and you just dare him to move up to the small of your back. This moment of peace is ruined by the one and only—

“John Marston!” Abigail yells from their tent. She’s too far away to see where his hand is, but he very slowly and carefully moves it anyways. You drop your head down and look into your cup as she walks over. “Hey Abigail.” You say, her face turning into a scout as you greet her. “John, I think Jack is sick. Would you mind going into town and getting him some medicine?” A question she knew he wouldn’t refuse. He nods at her and looks back at you before walking away. She walks with him over to Old Boy, and you see them talking about something but can’t hear. John throws his hands up in the air and grabs the reins, leaving quickly. Abigail walks back over to you with her arms crossed and a frown. “Y/N. You stay away from him, you hear?!” she says jabbing her finger at the air pointing at you. You smile sweetly, giving a puzzled look at the same time. “What ever do you mean Ms-“ Neither of you can say anything more as Hosea calls your name. “Y/N, we’ve got a job for you.” You give her a smirk and walk away.

Hosea said that it was probably better if John was there with you when he went over the job. He told you that he could tell things were getting tense so he called you away from Abigail. John rides in three hours later, and with Abigail in their tent you make your way over to him. “Hey.” You say to him, watching as he hitches his horse and turning to you. “Hey.” He says. You look around and look back up at him before wrapping your arms around him. You feel him tense up, but god did he love the feeling of your arms around his torso. He wanted to lift you up off the ground and kiss you and hold you. Tell you that he’s there for you. But he didn’t. He can’t. After a few seconds you pull away, and you mumble a few flustered words. He chuckles and looks down at you. “She’s gorgeous.” is all he can think to himself as you fidget with your fingers red-faced. “We should probably go to Hosea. He has a job for us.” You tell him, turning away. He studies you, the way you walk with so much grace, the way your dress hugs you perfectly in all the right places. He sighs, catching up with you.

“You shouldn’t be gone for too long, maybe a day or so. Five days at the longest.” Hosea starts off. “Braithwate moonshine can be sold for a pretty penny, but you gotta play both sides. Gray and Braithwate. Now how you actually get the shine is up to you. Now, there’s also some business that can be done with Seamus involving some stagecoaches and horses. Figured you two would be the best at acting and lying. Think you can do it?” John nodded his head. “Definitely.” You said, almost eager considering you get to spend time with John. “Very well then. You leave tomorrow.” Hosea finished with a smile. You walked away with John and started playfully teasing like you normally do. He studied you again, this time focusing on your smile and how your hair fell loosely behind your shoulder as you threw your head back in laughter. His cheeks darkened to a shade of pink again, but he quickly turned away with his hat’s shadow covering his face. You notice and giggle at the gesture. “We should get some rest. It’s late.” You suggest, and John doesn’t argue with that statement. “You’re right. Goodnight Y/N. I’ll see you in the mornin’.” You wave goodbye and walk to your tent. You hear Abigail yelling at him as you zip the flaps and change into your chemise nightgown and lay on your bedroll. You ponder for a moment, imagining how the job will go. Then you smile and feel your cheeks get hot as you think about John again. You thought about the hug you gave him and how warm he felt. You fell asleep, your imagination running wild as you dreamt.

As you slowly sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes, you notice a shadow outside your tent. You got up and unzipped the flaps, greeted by John with a cup of coffee for you. “Mornin’ girlie.” He says with a bright smile that warms your heart. You step out into the grass, wet with rain and dew. “Mornin’.” You say giving him a smile of your own, taking the cup of coffee with a thank you and taking a sip. “When should we head for this job?” He asks you suddenly. You almost didn’t even hear him as you were spacing out. “After I wake up a bit more I’ll be ready to go. just gotta change before I do.” He nods, taking another sip of his coffee.

It’s about 11 am now, and you had just finished putting your weapons on your horse, stroking his mane afterwards. “Alright. We ready to go?” John asks you after packing his weapons as well. “Yep. Let’s go!” You say, jumping onto your horse and praising him quietly and gently. John gets on his horse and leads the way, you following suit and riding side-by-side. You’ll never get used to the view of the mountains and the town from a high advantage point, taking in the fresh air and scenery. “So uh,” you start, coming out of your moment of relaxation. “what the hell was Abigail beratin’ you for last night? She seemed pretty pissed.” John scoffs. “She was. Told me to stay away from you, spend more time with a kid that probably ain’t even mine, ya know.” You nod, wondering how she can be so cruel to a man so perfect. “Well, no offense, but that girl don’t deserve you if she don’t see how great you are. You got that? Forget about what she says. We ain’t gotta be back at camp for a while. Let’s just have some fun.” He smiles and chuckles. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺? he wonders to himself. He can’t help but notice your horse starting to pick up speed, and he starts to pick up speed as well. “Race ya!” You yell back at him, who is already a good distance behind. “Ha! Yeah right!” He yells back, both of you laughing.

Either he let you win, or he really tried and lost

You make it to the Braithwate mansion and get that job over with. You two ended up having fun, giving it away at the local saloon for free, pouring drinks like your lives depended on it. You walk out the saloon laughing with your arms linked. He turns to you and gives a loving gaze, before reaching for your waist to pull you in for a kiss, but halts when he realizes how wrong it is. He clears his throat and looks away awkwardly. The only sounds are yelling from inside the saloon, crickets chirping, and the wind blowing followed by the rustling of trees. You close your eyes as you let the wind sweep you away, feeling calm and at ease. “Sorry, judy wanted to take in the stars.” You say, turning back to him. “S’okay.” He says, head down and avoiding eye contact. You get on your horses and ride back to the mansion.

“Thanks for the job, Mrs. Braithwate.” You tell her, walking away. John already booked rooms at the hotel, so all you had to do was check in. The ride there was silent, and when you pulled up to the hotel there wasn’t anything but a desolate street. It was calming. John cleared his throat, and you could tell something was wrong. He tries to walk into the building, but you grab his wrist making him turn to you. “Hey, what’s goin’ on? We were having fun… What changed?” You ask him with genuine concern in your voice. He fidgets after you let his wrist go and slowly raising his head to look at you, he clears his throat. “Y/N, I uh… I-I think… 𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗜 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗳 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵.” You’re shocked by his words, but a good kind of shocked. He looks away again. “I knew you didn’t feel the same. I shoulda known… I don’t deserve you.” You tear up a bit, cringing at the painful words he says about himself. You go to say something, but instead lean up and kiss him deeply, letting you know you feel the same way. He puts his hands on your waist and pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss even more. It’s passionate and romantic, with the spring breeze blowing your hair gently and the leaves rattling. You both pull away very slowly. “I think I love you too.” You tell him smiling. He smiles back at you, and he kisses you again.

#john marston x female reader #fluff #fic #writing #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fic #fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #post #mylittlemarston #gangofgunslingers

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bapyess1r · 4 years

Text

Sunny Daze

WARNINGS: violence and cursing

Pairings: Drake Brothers x OC

Chapter 7

Sam’s POV

I hopped off the plane, lighting myself a cigarette as I went. A chill blew off of the icy Scottish waters and I pulled my fleeced denim closer. Nathan followed out behind me, zipping up his brown leather jacket and Sunny flipped up the fleece collar on her plum leather jacket, tugging at the black fingerless gloves on her small hands. She jumped out, landing with a cute little bounce. I hid my smile with a drag of my cigarette before Sully popped his head out. “You kids be careful up there. Watch each other’s backs.” He said, handing my little brother a communicator. As the two continued to talk, in my peripheral, I watched Sunny walk over to a cliff, watching nature’s scenery as she shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. I approached her, standing next to her to enjoy the view with her as she lit a cigarette for herself.

“Pretty right?” I asked her as I looked at the amber trees on pure white snow against the perfectly blue sky, jagged rocks cutting across the landscape. She took a drag and placed her hands on her hips.

“It’s gorgeous. Looks just like a painting.” She said, never tearing her eyes away from the dark colored ocean. I tore my gaze away from her as she bit down on a cherry red painted lip. I couldn’t stop staring at her since last night. Even this morning she made me a little nervous as we sat outside the hotel sharing a cigarette and coffee as we were now. I knew I had to get over it though. ‘A girl like that for a guy like me… It’s a miracle she even talks to me.’ I thought, fidgeting with a hangnail on my finger.

“You reckon we’ll find the treasure today?” She asked me and a splash of excitement and anticipation hit me. I enjoyed when she talked sometimes. I liked the fact that she had a tendency to speak like a cowboy...

“God, I hope so…” I mumbled, taking a drag of my cigarette. She nodded with a wide grin full of optimism.

“I think so.” She said taking a drag of her cigarette, scratching a spot on the back of her head. “Or if not thee treasure, then at least some sort of direction on how to get to it.” She looked at me and I just smirked, hoping some of that optimism would rub off on me.

“I believe you.” I answered, looking into the bright sky. Suddenly, Nathan approached us with a sigh, cracking his back. “We all set, little brother?” I ask him.

“Yup. Good to go. You ready, Sunny?” He asked her and she put out her cigarette in the snow. She took a deep breath and turned to us with a blinding smile.

“Ready when you are.” She said.

“Alright then, lead the way.” I gestured and we began our adventure.

We climbed cliffs and descended rock slides until we reached the site. Shoreline supply boxes were strategically placed everywhere, filled with all kindsa shit. Weapons, dynamite, hand grenades… You name it, they had it. “What’s Shoreline?” Sunny asked.

“Well… remember that woman with Rafe? Sully told us it’s her crew. Buncha mercenaries for hire essentially.” Nathan answered. She had her ah-ha moment and didn’t question any further.

“Have you guys ever seen that woman?” She asked with a grin, a blush playing across her cheeks as she spoke of her. “She was ridiculously hot….” Where I looked surprised, my eyebrows shooting up at the thought of her being with a woman, Nathan frowned.

“I saw her fist on my cheek and the bottom of her foot but that was about the extent of it.” He said and Sunny burst into laughter. He pouted a bit and I grinned.

“You let a girl kick your ass?” I laughed a bit too hard and they both stopped to stare at me. I was laughing alone and Sunny bore holes into my skull with a perfectly sculpted brow.

“Want me to kick your ass?” She asked with a hint of warning in her voice. She set back on her heel with her arms crossed. To tell you the truth, I did not want that problem. I’d seen her fight first hand and what she did to those men I did not want done to me. I like my neck where it is. I pulled myself a cigarette and flicked my zippo.

“I’m good.” I said, taking a few steps back. She smirked and shot me a wink that damn near set my heart ablaze.

“That’s what I thought, bitch.” She said before walking to a cliff to climb.

“Woah- ‘bitch’? That's low, Sunny.” I smiled to myself as I watched her walk away. Suddenly, Nathan shushed us and signaled for us to take cover. Sunny pulled her pistol from her leg holster and cocked it, holding it ready and I did the same. We watched as Nathan moved and followed accordingly. He silently took down a soldier and I moved ahead to assist. Sunny jumped another and as we continued to move that way, we didn’t use our guns at all. We put them on safety and tucked them away again until we needed to use them. “So Rafe bought up all this land?” I asked. Just as I finished speaking, the sound of explosions took place in the distance.

“Yeah… and evidently they’ve gotten tired of digging.” Nathan said.

“So they resort to explosives? Because that’s smart as hell.” Sunny commented, sardonically. I grinned as we pushed on.

We fought several Shoreline mercenaries that evening. Honestly, I could’ve used a break. My fists were starting to hurt and I didn’t know if my nose could take another breakage. I grunted as my fist collided with a man’s jaw, shaking off the soreness as I went. My arms were getting heavier and it was harder to breathe. “I gotta quit smokin’...” I said to myself as I pulled my gun to shoot and punch my way out of the tight space. There were too many of them and they were beginning to surround me; had me backed into a corner. ‘Shit. This is it. This is how I go…’ I thought a moment. I closed my eyes, ready for execution when I heard three shots fire in close range, bodies hitting the ground one after the other. When I opened my eyes, I saw Sunny throw her empty gun away and run towards a wall, she kicked off from it, throwing her weight around. She wrapped her arms around a man’s neck and pulled hard. He landed on his back and never got up. Another mercenary approached her from behind. He was a whole head and shoulders about her. She turned to deliver a quite impressive high kick but he simply blocked her. He blocked her attacks like it was nothing and I could see her get tired. He gave a punch so hard it damn near knocked her out. But this guy… I’d seen guys like these before. The ones that enjoy the struggle. With one hand he picked her up by the neck, choking her and held her against a wall, her small feet dangling a few feet from the frozen grass. I felt a flash of adrenaline and the protector in me awakened. The same one that tried to protect my little brother for so long. “HEY! HANDS OFF, ASSHOLE!” I shouted, grabbing an empty long range gun. I tossed it upside down in my hands and bashed it against his head in one fell swoop. As he was knocked off balance, he dropped Sunny. She clutched her throat trying to catch her breath a moment as I attempted to wrestle the guy into submission. We were around the same size so it was a bit of a challenge. But I’ll be damned if I let someone put their hands on her that way. With much struggle, I managed to pin his arms down enough to leave him wide open and I head butted him. I was hard headed as hell so it didn’t hurt me much. When Sunny regained her strength, she kicked him in the back of his knees with a mighty yell, cracking his neck and he fell before her feet. ‘Fuck, that was hot…’ I thought as I watched her wipe a bit of blood off the corner of her lips with the back of her hand. Immediately, I went over to her, holding her petite face in my hands as I listened to Nathan finish the fight, praising himself for a job well done. I was more concerned with Sunny’s well being. “You okay, sweetheart?” I asked her, stroking over the area on her cheekbone that has already begun to bruise as my brother called out for us. She nodded but I could tell she was a bit shaken. She could hold her own in a fight and she was a tough cookie but the fights were getting more and more dangerous, the closer we got to finding Avery’s grave. “Look at me,” I told her as she zoned out for a moment. I stared into her big shiny browns and spoke as honestly and as sincerely as possible. “You’re alright. I won’t let anything happen to you, I swear…” I didn’t mean to let myself be so vulnerable right then but it happened.

“Sam…” She said, her lips trembling. I pulled her into a tight hug.

“You saved my ass again. Let’s try not to make this a reoccurring thing though, yeah?” I joked. I could feel her body relaxing in my arms and she pushed herself away from me with a deep inhale. All this time I had been worried about her slowing us down but she was saving me left and right. I should’ve been listening to my little brother...“We’re almost there. I can feel it.” I told her. She just lit herself a cigarette with a nod and began scavenging the guns and ammo. I followed suit and placed a hand on her shoulder on my way over to Nathan. I puffed on my cigarette as my brother also looked for extra ammunition.

“How is she?” He asked me. I sighed.

“Well she saved my life again and then a guy almost killed her just now so…. She’s about as great as she can be…” Nathan’s head whipped around as I spoke.

“She what?” He asked worriedly. As our heads turned to the fort, she walked out strapped to the nines with guns, her head hanging low.

“She uh… had a slight brush with death. Guy almost choked her out. Definitely wasn’t fun.” I mumbled before taking a drag. Nathan ran over to her and they embraced each other tightly. I sighed, slightly jealous that my younger brother got to know her before me. After a few encouraging words from my brother, she handed out the extra ammo.

“The graveyard should be just through here.” Nathan told us and we followed him into a thick brush of the forest.

We arrived at the graveyard, multiple head stones of varying shapes and sizes were covered in snow. The three of us split up to find Avery’s grave but ultimately Nathan had found it. We pressed around on the headstone hoping it would trigger something but nothing was working. I turned to look back at Sunny who was staring at the plaque with intent. Her eyes narrowed and she raised a brow. “Somethin’ bothering you?” I ask her. She takes a few steps forward to get a better look at the headstone and fixes her mouth to say something.

“I… I don’t know if it should be to the left or to the right but the skull isn’t turned correctly… Or am I just reaching?” She asked us. The light bulb went off in both of our heads with a grin.

“I love you, Sunny.” Nathan said simply and she crossed her arms with a smile.

“I know.” She seemed quite proud of herself. I watched as Nathan turned the skull to the right and a rumble began beneath our feet. Suddenly, a secret stairway appeared before us, right next to his grave.

“I bet you Shoreline hasn’t found this.” my brother laughs proudly in amusement as the three of us peered into the opening. It was dark and dusty down there.

“Whaddya think we’ll find in it?” Sunny asked, scrunching up her nose that had begun to turn red and chapped against the harsh cold.

“Let’s find out…” I said pulling a flashlight from my pocket. “Ladies first?” I teased, picking up that she wasn’t going to enjoy this very much. She looked at me with a smile before speaking to me in a soft and kind voice.

“Sure! After you, Princess.” She said sarcastically, gesturing to the entrance.

“Oh, ha ha. You’re funny.” I replied unamused as Nathan chuckled. She pulled out her flashlight as my brother descended the stairway and we followed behind him. As we navigated the hall we found ourselves in a crypt. Sunny posted herself up in a corner, nervously tapping her foot as my brother and I looked around. I chuckled at her as I looked inside an open coffin; Nothing but spiderwebs and dry bones. Everywhere. I sighed looking at her. “You hangin’ in there, sweetheart?” I asked her loudly. She mumbled something incoherently, scratching her head.

“She always did get a little antsy around skeletons.” Nathan told me as he shined his light on the wall of open coffins.

“Really?” I was absolutely amused by this. “You get shot at all day, climb mountains, kick people’s asses like they stole your last fry but skeletons…?” I teased her about it mercilessly as we continued down a hall to more coffins. She backed into a far corner of the room and when I saw what I saw, I decided not to tell her. I just wanted to see what would happen. I tapped my brother in the chest with the back of my hand pointing towards her with a sly grin. Sunny sat down on a half opened coffin, not realizing that a body was half hanging out of it. She set back on her hands and looked down to swing her feet when she noticed the dusty skull staring back at her. Almost immediately she screamed and ran over to me, gripping my jacket tightly as she hid behind me. I keeled over in laughter with my brother as he pushed on to the next room.

“It’s not funny!” She exclaimed, punching me on the back of my arm rather hard. It left a lingering sting as I massaged the spot, still laughing at her reaction as I followed him.

We came across a larger room suddenly and my laughter ceased. A depiction of the crucified trio stood before us in bold marble.

“Sunny… I think this might be a you thing…” Nathan said as we assessed the situation before us. I looked over at her as a smirk curled her lips. She strutted around analyzing the contraption and circling around to find a door behind the wall. She pressed against it briefly, however it didn’t open. I stood next to her to assist but still it didn’t budge. She twisted her lips as she looked around. On the wall behind her we’re lamps ready to be lit. “Aye, Smokey. Light it.” My brother said in our general direction.

“I don’t know which one of us you’re talking to but that hurts my feelings regardless.” I commented as Sunny snickered, flicking her black matte zippo. I flicked mine and assisted lighting the lamps. Suddenly the contraption shifted and a magnifying glass appeared where the crosses were. Streams of light began to shine on the door in a pattern to match the gems laid into it.

“Well fuck…” she mumbled. She walked around the wall again to see through the peepholes near the crosses, smiling as she immediately figured out what to do. “Sit tight, boys. I got this.” She said as she leaned over, giving me an incredible view of her ass.

“Please… take your time.” I smirked as I leaned against a nearby wall to watch her work.

#uncharted 4 #sam drake #uncharted #samuel drake #samuel drake x reader #uncharted x reader #sam drake fanfiction #sam drake x reader smut #uncharted smut #sam drake smut #poc oc #poc #sam drake x oc #samuel drake x oc

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squidproquoclarice · 5 years

Note

I love your headcanons on Susan's and Bessie's roles in Arthur's and John's upbringing! And now I'm wondering about Hosea, cause you mentioned something about how he was probably ambivalent about being a father figure cause his own dad was problematic? Which sounds so interesting cause I've never heard him talk about his own childhood in-game. So I just wondered what your headcanons were about younger!Hosea trying to be a good dad for Arthur and John? Was he more distanced than Bessie and Susan?

Hiya!Hosea mentions a little bit about his childhood in-game. What crumbs we get are, if I recall correctly, that he saw his father only a few times in his life, and the implication that apparently he found out his dad was a polygamist of sorts and had numerous families. (Which would help explain why he wasn’t there much.)So I think he came at the notion of fatherhood with some ambivalence from that. If you don’t mind, I’m gonna just excerpt chapter 23 of Sunrise here since I think it explains some of what I see as Hosea’s mentality.*********“I–my pa never said more than about a dozen words to me, but I worshipped him. Lived for seeing him again, hoping for that fine and sunny day where he’d say he loved me, that he was…he was proud of me. Guess I never learned from that.”Was that the reality of fatherhood, failing the children a father was supposed to love and protect? “You and me wasn’t exactly the talking type.”“Should have been. I tried to love you boys without ever having to say it. I should have said it.” Hosea put an arm around his shoulders. “When we found you, I wasn’t that much beyond my degenerate bastard years myself. But Bessie needed to be a mother. Truly needed it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a father, but, well,” he shrugged awkwardly, “you seemed like such a talented little crook Dutch and me could use, and I liked your guts. But you were so scared. Wild. Angry. I didn’t expect much from you, I’ll be honest. For a con man, I was a poor judge of folk sometimes.”“I didn’t come with much to recommend me.” He wouldn’t fool himself on that. Nobody wanted a pissed-off, hard-nosed fourteen-year-old pickpocket who couldn’t read or write. He’d been well aware of that fact. “But you wanted me enough to take me on. You kept me alive. Let me be better than I was. I was some dumb animal that’d have starved or been shot or hanged eventually. Maybe you wasn’t the best family, but it was better than I had.”“That ain’t saying much. You surprised me, is all I’m saying. How smart you actually were. How much you worried about other people. There was so much goodness in you that never could get rooted out. It was Bessie and you who really taught me what love was, you know that? That I was worth loving.”**********Overall given his uncertainty, I think he came to the notion slower than Bessie for sure, and he was always the sort to do and not say. Given he was an actor and a conman, Hosea knows the power of words, but also knows how they can be used casually and without truth or meaning. So I think he far more respects actions from people. He showed his love to Arthur, and then John, by encouraging them, by teaching them, by spending quality time with them, by looking after their well-being, by supporting them. To him, regularly showing his affection with actions, not words, was the truest proof of it, and he did a very good job of it. I suspect far more than Dutch, Hosea was the paternal constant to them in teaching and giving them necessary boundaries, given they both were pretty much half-feral orphans who’d been on the street for years when they got brought on. Arthur seems to hold Dutch in both fear and awe, seeing him as very much a lofty paterfamilias figure, but he admits openly he loves Hosea in an uncomplicated way.John comes from an implied background of paternal neglect, which is bad enough, but it’s a very easy inference that Arthur was probably badly abused by his father. So I think one thing Hosea never fully understood in life was how much both boys probably also needed to hear “I love you” and “I’m proud of you”. Arthur in particular craves and needs direct verbal affirmation and affection to help deal with the scars of that trauma. It’s why Dutch’s praise, manipulative as it is, earns such slavish devotion.

#hosea matthews #arthur morgan #john marston #rdr2 #thank you for coming to my red talk #Anonymous

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elenatria · 5 years

Text

How to turn a London Con trip into a “Chernobyl” trip.

I’m home so I can finally make this post.

Where to start.

Okay-

Let’s start with “Chernobyl”. It happened a few months ago, fell on our heads like a nuclear bomb. We all loved the protagonists but Viktor Charkov, the KGB chairman, is also a memorable, creepy, hateful character who got under our skin with the cold truth of his words, the harsh reality of his behaviour. He was too real, too pragmatic to be ignored. From stories I’ve been told in person, he’s no different than the executive arms of tyrants we had here not more than forty years ago. He exists. People like him live among us.

As for the actor himself, so strange. See, there is no mention of Alan Williams’ age on IMDB or Wikipedia and that’s enough to show that, apart from his theatre, TV and film work, little is known about him. Where to find him, contact him, he’s too old to care about social media and apparently he never was too sought out, not with a “face like a bagful of donuts” as he jokes.

But I was thrilled. I wrote the first chapter of “A single bullet” after watching “Chernobyl” and I just had to show it to this elusive low-profile thespian who inspired me. Because... I don’t know, because. Just to say “Thanks for doing a magnificent job. Thanks for helping me understand evil.”

So I tried contacting his agent. I gave her my name and nationality. I thought I’d just send her the link and forget about it.

Apparently, she forgot about it too because I never heard from her.

After a month London Con was upon us, but what to do in the evenings? Plays of course. I booked a ticket for “The woman in black” and “The Hunt” with Tobias Menzies. Then I searched and searched for Alan Williams plays but, to my dismay, he had finished playing Ivan Romanovich Chebutykin in “Three sisters” at the beginning of June and his new play, “Faith, hope and charity”, wouldn’t premiere before September. Just my luck to be in London in between the two plays. No stage door queue, no autographs.

After spending a full Saturday at London Con and Sunday at the British Museum, Monday had to be a day of leisure. A free concert at St Martin-in-the-Fields before lunch was all I was capable of attending, drag my steps towards the closest bus stop that would drop me off… wherever. I didn’t care.

But then I decided to read my post from the previous day about managing to buy a ticket for “The girl on the train” at the very last minute and meeting Alex Ferns, the naked miner. The unexpected ticket, the unexpected hug.

Now how difficult would it be to meet an actor who is NOT doing a play at the moment?

Very very difficult, confirmed one voice.

He’s rehearsing for ‘Faith, hope and charity’, isn’t he? disagreed another. He must be. It’s almost August and the play opens in September. He’s at work right now. He must be!!!

I googled and googled for almost an hour. I found that “Faith, hope and charity” would be staged at the Dorfman theatre near Waterloo station so I called the stage door. I explained to the receptionist that I did not know Mr Williams in person but I was visiting London for only a few days, was a big fan of his work in “Chernobyl” and I would really love to greet him. The man on the phone was very helpful revealing that this was their first day of rehearsing (the incredible coincidence!) and they had started only… an hour ago. He asked my name and I said “Well… you can say Eleni”, I mean, who needs my complicated surname, right? The guy said he’d save my number and let Mr Williams know.

Oh god.

But I couldn’t just sit there waiting for a call, I’d never get that call, come on.

So I rushed to the Dorfman Theatre. I was breaking my brain trying to figure out how I could get the Charkov chapter of “A single bullet” printed in a district with no stationary shops whatsoever. I was hoping I could… shove it into his face I don’t know, and later imagine he’d be reading it. He didn’t really have to read it, just nod condescendingly and lie that he would, and that would be enough to put a smile on my face. Just like all those toys and drawings people give to celebs at cons that end up in the hands of volunteers, assistants or charities, if not in the trash.

When I got there I talked to a different receptionist, a very professional, very unhelpful young man. For safety reasons he wasn’t supposed to disclose neither the time they’d finish nor the time of recess. For safety reasons I had to go through Mr Williams’ agent to get to him. Outrageous, the woman didn’t even forward my story to him, let alone give me permission to meet him. I was hopeless, I was being turned down. I was being an idiot.

“But they must have a lunch break, right??” I insisted. “Can’t I just wait outside?”

That guy was a goddamn sphinx, and the helpful guy was still talking on the phone or to some lady there, I don’t remember, so I couldn’t reach out to him. Suddenly I felt unnecessarily needy as if I was sitting on the subway floor, shaking my hat to passers-by, clinging my few coins. How humiliating.

With heavy steps I exited the theatre. Why is it so complicated, why do I need someone else’s “permission”? I’m not a child. I looked around, it was a sunny day, people were sitting in coffee tables out in the patio. Some tables were empty but I didn’t care, I just sat on a column by the entrance, far enough to not be seen by the receptionists and feel like shit for lingering, close enough to catch anyone exiting.

For an hour and a half I crouched over my phone trying to figure out how to contact the agent without sounding too stalkery. I called the agency but the girl on the phone gave me the same email address where I had sent my fic. Fine. I changed the wording of my message again and again so as not to sound too needy or creepy even if I knew it wouldn’t work.

I knew I had missed my concert for no reason and I would soon have to leave because who doesn’t like giving up? It’s better to give up than stress over something that’s never gonna happen. It always is.

I was seconds away from clicking “send” and making a fool of myself to the agent for a second time when I thought I saw someone, a towering presence stopping a few meters away, looking over, hesitating, waiting.

I raised my head.

There he was, three-dimensional, bathed in sunlight. Not an image in my head anymore.

Believe me when I say that I was staring at Gandalf, Santa Claus, the Grail Knight from “Indiana Jones”, the Big Bad Wolf.

I honestly don’t know what I was staring at.

But there he was, in all his elderly silver-bearded glory. A myth in my mind, in the flesh. How did he know I was there? I didn’t tell anyone. I was supposed to be hiding.

After nanoseconds of deer-like stun I did the polite thing and jumped on my feet, ready for a handshake. I mean, I had to stand up, right? He had come out just for me.

Shit. What had I done? The nerve.

The first thing I remember noticing when I got closer were his faded blue eyes with a distinguishable light-shaded rim circling the iris. The rest was just word vomit, how we all love him on tumblr, write fics, make memes etc.

Memes?

I described to him the “Try me, bitch” edit we all love, courtesy of @two-screaming-rats.

He didn’t get it at first, then he laughed so HARD, so damn hard. You guys have to see Charkov laughing his heart out.

He said he only had a few minutes before he had to go back to the rehearsal so I decided to start the conversation with the Charkov fanfics. He was quick to apologize for not answering my email. “I’m sorry but… but I honestly don’t know what to say when someone sends me a story,” he admitted humbly. “I read all of them but… I mean I’ve been sent stories based on my characters before but I really wouldn’t know what to say.”

Okay first of all, he read my story. I don’t know if he read it a month ago when I sent it or minutes before he exited the theatre to greet me but he did.

Secondly, there are more stories about his characters? WHERE.

“I’m not a writer anyway,” I said apologetically.

The unexpected reassurance. “But you are.”

I guess one doesn’t have to be The Writer™, they just have to write. What a way to be courteous to a fan though.

Then I mentioned how we love Charkov’s trademark, his glasses, how we’re frantically looking for ‘80s-looking glasses, how we obsess over specific frames and brands.

“They’re not a brand,” he clarified, “they were specifically made for me, they’re an exact replica of Viktor Chebrikov’s glasses. Just like our clothes that were made by seamstresses who worked during that era.”

Naturally I praised the production’s attention to detail that has us ranting, how beautiful and “European” it all looked, how true the script was to Lyudmila’s story as it was described in Svetlana Alexievich’ “Chernobyl prayer”. I talked about my thoughts when I first heard there would be a “Chernobyl” TV series: the Americans made a TV show based on events that affected Europe, now that’s a new one. He mentioned Russian media admitting that they should have made that show, not the Americans. I agreed but also added “That’s the thing, it may be beautifully made, it may be the truth, but it’s still propaganda. Just because it’s true, just because the Soviet government did all those horrible things, that doesn’t mean that the show is not serving someone’s agenda.” He disagreed saying that the Soviet people were shown in a good light for their bravery and sacrifice. Well, we knew that, didn’t we.

I said how impressed I was by his portrayal of Charkov because we were told about people like him by dictatorship victims at school. People who had been tortured in the ‘70s came to us, talking about their time in underground cells, in the hands of sadists like Charkov. I told him about my uncle who was arrested and executed by the Nazis for distributing left-wing leaflets, about my grandmother who had to escape to the mountains during the civil war that followed the German occupation because she was a communist. I explained how real it felt to me, his last scene with Legasov in the kitchen. How bleak and horribly accurate.

He mentioned “You’re one of us, Legasov”. To him Charkov was just doing his job, working for the greater good and he agreed with the quote in my fic, that Charkov “couldn’t wait to retire”.

He then joked about Charkov being blasé after the committee meeting, “Meh, I’m done with arresting people, I let others do it for me”.

I assure you all those questions were answered in a couple of minutes, and I was certain our meeting was about to come to an end.

But then… he gestured toward an empty table.

Don’t let an aged man standing, was my spontaneous thought. I was reminded of my father.

Then I realized. He gestured toward an empty table.

Table. The two of us. On a sunny day.

Time, he was offering me his time.

And… oh my god, this was practically an interview, why was I not recording this, he was answering my questions so effortlessly.

No. That would be rude, that would be greedy.

Just relax and enjoy the moment and try to remember fucking everything.

I asked him what his inspiration for Charkov was, if he based his portrayal on other actors or historical figures. He paused to think and explained that the script was very strict anyway, very defined. However he did mention Charkov’s line, “I know you’ve heard the stories about us. When I hear them, even I am shocked” and how that reflected Stalin’s hypocritical quote, “What do I know, I’m just a peasant”.

His favourite line was “Trust but verify, and the Americans think that Ronald Reagan thought that up”.

“Is that really an old Russian proverb…?” I wondered.

“I… don’t know!” he laughed.

During the rest of the conversation he mentioned his friend whose job was to translate the Pravda, and his years in Canada where he met Czech-Greeks, namely Greek communists who were driven away by our right-wing government after the Second World War. Even the Soviets didn’t want them so they were sent to the Czech Republic and ended up in Canada. These people belonged nowhere.

I didn’t know that, and he didn’t know about Vladimir Gubarev, the writer of the play “Sarcophagus” and science editor of the Pravda who was the recipient of Legasov’s tapes. I quoted him saying “Why call the protagonist Legasov since that’s not how Legasov was, they could have used a character who’s a scientist and give him any other name.” Like Ulana, I added, who’s a composite character, or Chebrikov/Charkov, mostly fictional.

Our conversation was coming to an end; he asked me what plays I saw in London and he smiled when I mentioned Alex Ferns in “The girl on the train”.

It was truly overwhelming; I was torn between being swept away by the moment, focusing on nothing but the faded blue of his eyes, bathing in the calm rhythm of his voice, and actually paying attention to what he was saying. Only once did my eyes dart at his left hand spotting the unusually thick golden ring on his finger. When one’s mind plays tricks the best way to discipline is a glimpse at The Ring because if he didn’t have nearly my father’s years I’d probably be having a horribly inappropriate crush.

“Time to go,” he apologized.

We took a couple of photos and I pulled out Svetlana Alexievich’ book, asking for an autograph.

“Where should I sign?” he asked.

“Wherever you want.”

He flipped through the pages noticing my page markers, notes and underlinings. “What are these for?”

“Just… just notes. Do you want my—” I suggested grabbing my big-ass permanent marker.

Without a word he gave a knowing smile and, like an experienced conjurer, he pulled out of his jacket an elegant little sharpie. Delicate pens for delicate words.

I didn’t dare read what he wrote to me then, I could only make out his name through that intelligible doctor-like writing. Surely my name wasn’t there because I hadn’t introduced myself. Still, I thanked him from the bottom of my heart.

Time to go.

We shook hands and I said how honoured I was that he had spent time with me. I tried not to stare as he disappeared into the theatre but before I left I ran into the foyer, quickly thanked the receptionist to whom I had talked on the phone and stormed out of the building with that huge wave of adrenaline pumping violently in my ears.

As I crossed the street I was grinning like an idiot. I knew I had to stop right there and write down everything before I forgot - but it was pointless. I’m not a recorder to have to write down everything the minute it happens. It’s enough to remember the pale rimming of his eyes.

Now, two days after meeting him, I’m still torn between pride and embarrassment. What the hell was I thinking? Doesn’t a man deserve to work in peace?

But as I’m writing this and attaching his signature on the first page of “Chernobyl prayer” I dare for the first time read what he wrote to me.

Pleasure to meet you.

People say they have religious moments when meeting their favourite celebs.

Mine was poetic.

What a darling, darling man.

#chernobyl #alan williams #viktor charkov #vikor chebrikov #fan encounter #dorfman theatre #alex ferns #the girl on the train #london #kgb

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vore-scientist · 5 years

Text

Goldilocks and the Giant Wizard

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

(safe/soft GT vore w/fearplay)

Premise: The Giant Evil Wizard Yonah HaEsh has a uninvited visitor to his tower, and she’s quite the troublemaker. I worked a lot of silly lore into this one.

**Content Warnings**: The titular Goldilocks lives! Do not worry! But there is minor skin irritation/burns (multiple factors involved). Descriptions are not graphic but are intense. Also Yonah briefly considers killing her (but not digesting her alive, he would never!). [please message me for additional info if needed!]

Goldie’s POV is 1st person, Yonah’s is 3rd.

----

So.

Hi.

My name is Zahav Goldstein-Goldbloom. But most people call me Goldie. It’s great to meet a fan! Oh? Are you not a fan? Surely you’ve heard of me. I’m a pretty awesome adventurer if I do say so myself. And I do. Say so. All the time. I am brave. I am strong! I can run for hours! I am resourceful! And I always come out on top… always… well. Except for right now. Right now I am…

FREAKING! THE! FUCK! OUT!

You will never guess where I am. (Or maybe you will, given fairly universal theme of the author’s blog).

I’m in the stomach of a giant! Who is also a wizard! What’s up with that? Giants can’t become wizards!

Yeah. I was eaten. Gonna die soon. That sucks. A lot.

It’s terribly smelly and terrifyingly dark in here. I briefly took out a light stone but that was worse. The horrible angry pink walls… the slimy mucus… the acids that I’m sitting in… I would rather not watch my own demise. But don’t worry, I’m not going quietly! I’ll scream my loudest up until the very end! This I swear. And I can scream very loud. If you’re worried that I’m using up my air faster: better to pass out and not die painfully right?

There’s no point in telling me that I shouldn’t be complaining, or that adventuring is far from safe. I know. I know. It’s super duper dangerous and adventurers die all the time but I never figured it would happen to me! I always do everything right. So how could this have gone so wrong? Must have been something. I should have just enough time left to reflect.

How about we start at the beginning. Not of my life. As exciting as my entire life is, or… was… I don’t think I have time before well… you know. My skin is already feeling a bit tingly. That’s probably a bad sign.

Anyways! Let’s start a few days ago. When I entered a rather mysterious forest.

—-

The day had been pretty darn great so far! I broke a curse put upon the charming town of Shevana. I guess I did a really good job since they carried me out on their shoulders! Singing my praises! And gave me a nice reward. They told me that I’d done such a good job that they never needed me to visit again. I waved to the crowd as I walked down the road into the bright sunny day.

Ugh. I’d forgotten how boring this part of adventuring was. Travel. Walking. Just me and me thoughts. For hours. So many hours.

I wish I’d stayed in town awhile longer. They gave me some gold but didn’t give me any food for my journey. And you can’t eat gold! Unless maybe you’re a lava snake. But I’m guessing you aren’t since they can’t read. Can’t really hold books in molten coils.

Usually I manage to find something, a stray fruit tree, shoot a rabbit. However I saw no such things on the side of the road! Not that I was concerned. One day without food could not worry me.

But that one day became two. And on that second evening I came to a forest.

I figured I could find something to eat in a forest! Right? Berries at the very least. Countless people have told me to be careful about eating plants I’m not familiar with but I’ve never had any problems.

I didn’t expect the sun to set so fast. Nor for it to start raining. I could barely see three feet in front of me let alone forage for sustenance. What I needed was shelter. Warm and dry shelter. Hell I would take a hole in the ground!

That’s when I spotted it: A hole in the ground!

Right between the roots of a small group of trees growing on a sizable mound of earth and rocks. And it was very dry, the earth inside covered in a soft moss! Finally things were making sense again.

One thing was missing: warmth.

What I lacked in food I made up for in flint and tinder! Miraculously still dry tinder thanks to my awesome waterproof bag that I got from a witch. I offered to return it after I was done with my quest but she wouldn’t let me near her hut and insisted I leave and never come back.

So I lit a small fire.

That’s when the rumbles started.

That’s when I found out that this wasn’t a mound made of earth and rocks.

Well it was made of bears. Large, no-longer-sleeping bears.

Made of earth and rocks.

I was able to get out of there and make a run for it as they disentangled themselves, the roots of the trees had grown deep and I could hear them ripping out of the ground as the beasts roared.

Miracle is an understatement. I shouldn’t have gotten away from the bears. I couldn’t actually run since I couldn’t see even if when the rain stopped. I collided into every thorn bush and tripped on every rock and root. From behind me I could hear them, they were getting closer. Surely at their size they could reach me in just a single bound!

And then I didn’t hear them! I also felt really nauseated as I stumbled into a clearing.

Not a true clearing. It wasn’t an empty meadow. From what I could see it was a garden, and possibly a small orchard? The sky was still dark with clouds. Thankfully The plant beds were spaced very far apart; not the most efficient use of space. And no, I didn’t pick any fruits or vegetables! This is clearly a magical garden! I’m not stupid. I don’t know what gave you that idea!

Fine! I took some apples! They smelled normal enough, and I’m not cursed or anything. Plus I was thoughtful enough to carve the adventurers symbol for “safe” on the tree, to let others know.

After that I just wanted to be out of this rain, out of the dark. And I was still hungry. Apples aren’t very filling.

There was a light!

Shining from the window of a tower at the opposite end of the clearing. I could not believe! And even better, the tower was covered in strong vines, miraculously free of moisture and easy to climb! With the prospect of a roof over my head, I had the strength to make my way up.

That fall from the window into the tower should definitely have broken a few bones.

This was no ordinary tower. It was magical. And whoever lived here was… well giant isn’t the right word. I’ve seen giants and they are about 40ft tall, this isn’t nearly big enough. I’ve heard stories of smaller varieties of giant but none from this continent. Perhaps some really large ogre lives here? But what ogre needs a magical workshop?

I should have maybe, maybe, just waited for whoever lived here to show up, because they weren’t around, and there was a freshly burning candle on the desk.

My hunger having been momentarily abated with apples and distracted by my curiosity, I climbed up on to the desk.

Wow! What treasures! Magical gizmos And whatchamacallits And doodads And doohickeys, And thingamabobs! I wanted to play with each to find out what they all did! And there were books! So many books and scrolls and bottles full of who knows what! I almost did, when I spotted the letter.

Whoever lived here must have left suddenly, for at the edge of the desk was a piece of parchment shiny with ink, and even though I could not read the writing, it was clearly an unfinished letter.

I tried to skim some of the books only most were in languages I couldn’t read. And they hurt my eyes.

It was time to continue my explorations. What I needed to find was a bed, or something suitable as a bed. And if I was lucky, something to eat and drink.

From my vantage point on the desk I could see an open trap door with a staircase leading down into the dark. There weren’t any other exits aside from the window so down I went.

Climbing down giant stairs is not fun. And I didn’t fancy having to climb back up. Hopefully I would find food and be recharged by then. Wow I was hungry.

Was that? That smell. Savory and meaty! Food! A doorway appeared on the wall of the stairwell, which led into a kitchen. There was no way I could prepare food here. Thankfully the table was set for dinner! And with the serving being so large, surely I could take some and it wouldn’t make a difference.

Ow!!! The soup, which had been luke warm, burned my mouth! I’d never eaten anything so spicy in my life! Ow ow ow!!! I reached into the goblet for handfuls of what I figured was water. But it wasn’t. Whatever it was it was sweet and bubbly, and it soothed the pain so I drank more.

No more soup for me, but there was a small, relative to the rest of the place, loaf of bread. A personal sized one. If said person was a few stories tall. It was as large as a bolder with a nearly rock hard crust to complete the illusion. I had to use my knife to carve into it.

The bread wasn’t spicy, it was full of raisins and nuts! Regular sized ones. Delicious! I ate my fill, and had more of the sweet drink before continuing my quest for a bed!

Woah!!! I almost fell off the table. I must’ve been really tired, the room is spinning a bit. But I was fine. I didn’t fall so I was fine! In fact I felt GREAT! I used the chair to get back to the floor and back to the staircase. No way was I getting up it. That way lead to the workshop, I only made it down one floor. So down I must go once more.

This time I found a living room. It was lit by a roaring fire in the hearth. There was a couch, an ottomon, and an armchair.

I tried to climb up onto the couch but it was too far off the ground. I used my grappling hook and it snagged the upholstery but as I tried to climb it just ripped down. I tried again with the same result except my hook got on a seam! It wasn’t far enough up so I left it there.

The armchair was the better bet, I should have inspected all of my options rather than just heading to the first thing i saw.

A large blanket was draped over the chair, tassels reaching the floor, and I was able to climb up. I couldn’t pull the blanket up to wrap myself in it, but beggars can’t be choosers. The Chair was very soft all things considered, though the fabric of it and blanket were rough, it was enough of a bed for someone as tired and small as I.

I promptly went to sleep.

—–

Fuck. That was. Not fun. Bruised and bleeding, he was looking forward to getting back home. At least the storm had passed and the early summer sun was rising. Well, he deserved to sleep a day and a night for this. And get a handsome paycheck. The king was damn lucky to have him at his beck and call! He had postponed dinner to finish writing a report when he got the call too! Now he would have to write a second report!

Finally he stepped over the stone path of his garden, careful not to slip as his shoes were covered in mud. At least he wasn’t tracking blood anymore. Not much at least.

What?

As he passed by his dancing sunflowers they bent towards him. They shouldn’t be active this early in the morning, even in summer. Was something wrong? Were they sick?

All their faces were turned in the same direction. He crouched down to their level (about 4 meters). Their attention was on the apple trees. That’s when he saw it.

One of the trees had been vandalized! Some sort of symbol carved into the trunk. He didn’t have a hope in finding the person, but he wrote down the symbol just the same. He needed to know what it meant. He didn’t want his tower being marked by some guild or cult.

Irritation pushed away some of his exhaustion as he Leapt up to snag the tower windowsill. His wounds stretched and blood trickled out again. He landed in his workshop with a muddy, bloody, thud. Maybe he could finish off the first report after all. Future him would thank him and-

The report was covered in footprints! The not yet dry ink had been tracked all over his desk! He held the now ruined report under the magnifying glass.

Human shaped.

A thief most likely. If they were so foolish as to still be around (and judging by the lingering scent of human, they were), they just won themselves a ticket down his throat. And if they were very lucky, because Yonah was now in quite a Mood™, it wouldn’t be one way.

It took a lot of focus to make his way silently down the stairs. He wanted to stomp and scream, to be monstrous, but that would give the thief warning. Give them a fighting chance. They did not deserve that chance.

Using his nose he followed the smell of the human to the kitchen. But he did not find them. Instead he found his now cold dinner.

Which the human had clearly helped themselves too! Did this person lack manners? Just, eating off of someone elses plate! Or rather, bowl? There were dried splashes of soup and mead all over the table, and his bread had little holes carved into it. What kind of person did that! Was this even a thief?

That didn’t really matter, he would eat them either way. He took a sip of the mead. Alcohol wasn’t what he needed, but it was what he wanted. Mmmm, it tasted better than he expected. It tasted like…

Had the human just stuck their HANDS INTO HIS CUP? He wasn’t grossed out. It’s not like he bothered to wash the humans when he swallowed them whole or anything. It was just so weird!

Tasted good though. It made him excited to eat the real deal.

Maybe a change of clothes first? And a bath? His current adornments were getting crusty and smelled horrible. So was he. The wounds had dried into the threads and pulled with every movement. Then again, he probably looked really scary. He couldn’t even imagine the state of his hair.

As he passed through the living room to the bedroom he had a strong urge to pass out on the couch and deal with all of his problems when he woke up. He caught himself unconsciously taking a few steps towards it.

That’s when the scent of the human caught his attention once more. And something else caught his eye.

Something was off about the couch. Inspecting it he found it had been torn! The stuffing spilling out and a small hook stuck in the fabric. First his report, then his bread, now his couch! This thief’s chances of survival were dwindling by the minute.

No time to change his clothes he was going to find the human before they wrecked anything else!

Oh. They were. right there. Sprawled out, halfway under the blanket on his armchair. Sleeping. As peacefully as one could be. Not for long. But he did not want to wake them just yet.

He sat down on the ottoman and leaned forward.

The human certainly looked like a thief. At least, she had adventuring gear. Not all adventurers were thieves but the ones who entered his tower were usually there to steal.

Her shining golden hair made of large curls was impeccably clean and fell across her face with perfect delicacy. Her golden-brown skin was free of blemishes, though her cheeks were flushed, the scent of alcohol lingering on her. She was beautifully innocent looking. And he was furious.

Was she not a thief? Thieves may be foolish but they didn’t break into his house to eat his food and drink until they passed out.

Then he spotted her knife and ink stained boots, about a meter from her head, tossed aside.

He took a deep breath, filling it with rage and fire.

—

Ouch! What was that! A blast of hot steam?

I woke up to find a very angry giant man in wondrously patterned robes standing over the bed, eyes angrily aglow. As my vision focused I saw that the robes were torn in several places and dreadfully bloodstained. So was the man, and he was still bleeding out of a few wounds, in particular a nasty gash on his left cheek and a black eye to go with it.

More hot breaths growled forth.

Well I am nothing if not polite. Even to grumpy people. I sat up, yawned, stretched a bit, and cheerfully greeted this giant man.

“Hello! I’m Zahhava Goldberg-Goldstein, adventurer extraordinaire! you call me Goldie! What’s your name?”

I held out my hand and smiled. No one can resist my smile.

—-

That’s all she had to say? He pushed the fire in his eyes to grow more intense. But she just continued to smile. Her huge golden eyes sparkling with irritating innocence.

“I don’t believe you’ve earned that information.” he growled and she blinked, “What the fuck are you doing in my tower?”

She considered for a moment, “Sleeping? Well I was sleeping. Boy does one get tired without a steed! I should really get one! And I call myself a hero! Wow You have really hot breath!”

Crossing his arms Yonah let out another snort of steam before he straightened up and leaned back.

“Do you always break into people’s houses?”

The human spoke with her whole body, wild motions that Yonah suspected some people had been in the line of fire of.

“I- there wasn’t a door or anything! Quite perplexing, but i’ve heard of towers like this before. Tricky stuff, but I’ve handled worse. Never met a vine I couldn’t climb, and the window was open!”

“Can I assume those are your footprints smeared across my report to the king?” It did not escape Yonah’s notice that she didn’t actually answer his question.

“Is that what that was? It was in a very strange language, it looked similar to dwarvish. Is that the language of this land? I must have crossed a boarder… I only ventured two days from town..”

Guess she didn’t read giant. Thankfully the king did, and let him write reports in his own language. And again… not actually an answer from this little, absent minded, egotistical, delectable, thief.

“Is this yours?” He held up the hook.

“Oh yes! Thanks so much for getting it loose! It was stuck something fierce wasn’t it!” She held out her hands but he only grinned, used the hook to pick his teeth and tossed it into his sleeve. Her smile wavered only briefly.

She still had not apologized.

“And you who poked little holes in my bread and drank my mead?” Yonah’s left eye twitched.

“I was hungry! After not a bite to eat for two days I Couldn’t believe I found such a bounty. Did you make that bread yourself it was incredible! The soup was way to spicy though, nearly burned my tongue off!”

Yonah raised an eyebrow. So not a thief? Just a poor lost soul? A bit of his anger subsided as a hint of pity grew within him.

“Before I got here I found this hill see, I was trying to get shelter from the rain. There was a small cave so I went in! But then… the Hill… it turned out to be made of bears! And- YIPE!”

—

Out of nowhere I was pinned under his right hand and smoke started billowing out of his hair; the roots of which sparked to life. We had just been talking! Having a nice conversation, what could have prompted this change?!

His face loomed over me, smiling. Not a kind smile either. Why was he smiling? He was clearly mad! Oh what had I done?

Now scalding spittle joined the breath as he shouted at me.

“IT WAS YOU!”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t! He was crushing the air out of me and I struggled my hardest to get his hand off.

“YOU’RE THE REASON I WAS CALLED AWAY FROM MY DINNER TO PACIFY TALLEKS! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO GET THEM TO GO BACK TO SLEEP?”

“N-no-“ I coughed, my only reward was a lungful of the hot breath.

“Ooohhhohoh I’m going to enjoy eating you!” he laughed. The unmistakable laugh of -

A villain.

This was a villain’s lair! Stupid stupid!!! Of course! The tower! The vines! The mysterious Workshop filled with bubbling noxious things in jars! The sweet, perfectly trimmed goatee this giant man had! It all added up, but all too late.

My heart stopped. Not literally but it sure felt like it. DID HE SAY ‘EAT ME’?

The hand lifted slightly and I took painful breathes.

But Before I could do anything to save myself the fingers curled around my back and I was Brought to his face. His grin stretched ear to ear and he drew his tongue over his lips.

Using the breath I managed to get, I tried my best to reason with him.

“PLEASE DONT EAT ME! I DONT WANT TO DIE!”

—-

No. Of course she doesn’t. But beaten up and oh so hungry, Yonah was not in a merciful mood.

Why should he let her live? This idiot humans had no respect for other people! She disturbed ancient spirits and felt no remorse! In fact she was acting as if she did nothing wrong!

He was done talking to her. Lowering her from eye level he pressed her onto his tongue and licked her bodily. She shrieked as she was covered in his near boiling slobber.

She tasted very very good. Her tears adding to her already savory flavor. He shoved her torso into his mouth and closed his lips around her.

The blood thundering in his ears drowned out her shrill cries, and after a few more seconds of enjoying her flavor he tipped his head back and swallowed her down.

Alive.

Yonah didn’t know why, but he decided against killing her. For all she had done… as thoughtless and worthless of a person as she clearly was, she had made no attempts on his life. She was just completely oblivious, and tactless. Not an execution worthy crime. Though… he had come very close. He almost snapped her neck when he held her in his hand. And again, almost bit down to do the same between his teeth. It would have been quick, bloodless, painless.

Neither times he did he take the opportunity. And as the struggling mass filled his stomach he wasn’t about to make her suffer a slow painful death as his meal. That was never something he could do, no matter how angry.

/Of course/ he thought, a wicked grin growing on his face as pat his stomach, making her scream and scramble /she didn’t know any of this/.

—

I don’t know why I continued to scream as I was crammed into the Giant’s mouth, he wasn’t listening to me at all! He was true to his word, he was going to eat me! Oh right it was because it was painful!!! Everything around me burned and I was pushed against the teeth, though the grace of a god who I could not name, I was not bitten.

Not yet.

In hindsight I should have started saying my prayers much earlier. Surely he was much too small to swallow me whole and was going to bite my head off or something. Or maybe my waist? He sealed me inside his mouth, letting my legs dangle out. The tongue was still active and shoving me into the hard teeth.

The end was surely near!

Gravity shifted and I slid down to the back of his throat! As my arms and head were pulled into the tight passage of flesh my legs were sucked into his mouth. I kicked as best I could but all I got were triumphant chuckles as my legs met his enthusiastic tongue.

Powerful rolling muscles shoved drew me down again and again! As my legs were pulled into the restricting tunnel my outstretched arms passed through a tight ring of flesh. Then my head escaped the esophagus. I took a breath and choked on the humid vomit smelling air.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

I didn’t stop screaming as the rest of my body was squished into the stomach. I didn’t stop as my face was pressed into the bottom, where a small pool of fluids was gathering! NOT GOOD! I did not stop as I hurriedly I rolled around to get my head away from the digestive juices.

There was still air. Not the most breathable, but it was air. How long it would last?

And it was even hotter in here, in the belly of the beast. I swear the pool of liquid boiled. I was thrown about, squished and shoved, as the giant laughed and laughed at my impending demise.

And it must be soon. For we are back where we started!

Me.

Eaten by a giant wizard.

And judging by the pounding on my left side, a disgustingly pleased giant wizard. I knew there was evil in the world. But it is really disheartening to know there were those so cruel that they relished in the death of others. And I was so powerless against him! I hadn’t even a sliver of a fighting chance.

I couldn’t tell if it was sweat or his stomach fluids flowing down my face, it all burned the same. It was like a boiling sulfur pool. The worst sauna ever.

ACk! Some of the fluid got in MY MOUTH!!! And the fluid level is… it’s rising. It was at my ankles when I began telling you my tale but now it halfway up my calves, and i’ve got my knees to my chest so… it’s getting worrisome. I’m done screaming. It’s not worth it. I’m sure I’ll start again once my flesh starts literally being eaten away, but for now…

“Hey!” the voice of the giant hit my already pounding ears like a mallet. Oh gods. He was gonna talk to me as I died! Did he have no respect for his meals!? Or was this respectful in his culture… I doubted that.

“Have any last words?” the chuckle shook and swirled around me.

Last words. Did I have any? Were they worth it? Just for him to hear. He knew my name but I couldn’t imagine him seeking out my friends and family. Especially since I don’t have any. Did I want the last meaningful thing I say to be for my killer’s ears only? I kinda wanted to say SOMETHING. Through sobs I managed:

“Like- like what?” before realizing that asking him for suggestions wasn’t smart. There was a forceful pushing on my left side.

The prodding became more forceful. Helping his stomach soften me up I guess.

“Are you really THAT Dense?” his evil laughter making the offensive fluids splash my face. I would NOT show any sign of pain. Not yet. But it still hurt. Everything stung and burned like I had waded into a boiling salt sea with a million paper cuts.

“You break into my house! Fuck up my report, tracking ink all over my desk!! Carve little holes into my freshly baked bread and splashing mead and soup everywhere! Rip up the upholstery on my couch! And not to mention you Disturbed the ancient forest spirits which I HAD TO DEAL WITH! ”

“But, I didn’t realize, I didn’t mean to-” I was just trying to survive the storm! It’s not my fault. Right? RIGHT!? But. I would be angry too. If I had written a letter to my mom and someone got grubby food covered hands on it. I would be quite mad! If I had made myself a nice meal and some kid picked at pieces of it, even small ones, I would be furious! I would be beyond outraged if hmmm if some idiot accidentally summoned a demon which I had to banish and said idiot didn’t thank me or admit to their mistake… Oh. I’m the idiot. I’m the assole.

“Yes, you are an asshole. Glad you finally figured that out. I was getting worried.”

Fuck did I say that out loud? My mind must be on its way out. It is getting difficult to breathe. Wait? Why did he care? What was going on?

—

Man it would have just been a cherry on top of his horrible day if he released his victim without her learning her lesson. Otherwise it would have felt like a terrible deed to unleash her back onto the world. But he wasn’t about to keep her captive. His place would be a pile of rubble in a week if she even so much as looked at his magical artifacts.

You see, he’d heard of entities such as her…

The Heedless.

Wreckers.

Agents of Chaos And Entropy.

She was clearly still developing. There was still time. Not to stop her, just minimize her catastrophes. And getting her to access her Hindsight was a step in the right direction. Now he just needed to send her to someone to unlock her Foresight. But he couldn’t think about that right now.

As he pulled her unconscious form out of his throat he saw her golden skin was now tinged red and blistering in places. He frowned; he didn’t think that he’d pushed the time limit for “unharmed” with Goldie. It had only been a few minutes.

Mucus, spit, and stomach fluids hit the counter top with a loud TSSSS; steam rose.

Ah. Those weren’t acid burns, they were… regular burns. He had been so mad, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what his internal temperature was.

He immediately dumped her body into the half full sink, while he continued to spit up more fluids. Gross. Along with the painful effort involved was almost enough to make him question why he let them live through him. Ok not really. He might have embraced being a monster, but not that much. He was still a person. And so were his victims.

He made sure to keep her head above the water, she was still breathing. She had been awake up until he spat her out. His best guess was she passed out from screaming so much. He held her gently and let cool cleansing water flow around her.

A few moments later she gasped and sat up. Then dived towards the running faucet, she had to get the fluids off of her face. And the waterfall was more forceful than the continuously draining pool.

—

My skin and body ached. I think this is what it feels like to be boiled alive. The ever flowing water kept the heat at bay. All I could do was close my eyes and sit there.

Eventually I opened them, through the water I saw the distorted face of the giant. Still angry. Still bloodied. Still… I was on the outside of his body again! I just wasn’t sure why.

“You can’t stay there forever” the voice of the giant came through the water.

I leaned forward just so my lips breached, “yes, I can.”

The giant’s face came close to me once more and I screamed. But back under water nothing but bubbles came out.

“No. You can’t. This is MY house, so if you stay you will become MY food. Got it?”

I fell over, cowering under his gaze, “You’re going to eat me again!” And huddled up as best I could but I’m no turtle.

“If you dont get the FUCK out of here, yes.” he bellowed, eyes glowing again. “I’m feeling generous, as well as stupid, so I didn’t kill you. Do not push your luck.”

He picked me up! Didn’t even warm me! Rude! But I didn’t dare scream or struggle lest he lose his temper with me. And he wasn’t being gentle, his calloused fingers brushing over my burns, squeezing my sides surely bruising something!

Of course it was better than being eaten! Better than being dead! Not that much, as I was shaken and swung about!

By the time I dared open my eyes we were back in the workshop. And I was dropped on the windowsill, the cool stone just barely won over the rough texture.

“Now,” his face was my entire sky, eyes two burning suns while his hands on either side. I could run, I could leave the tower. But I didn’t think he would approve.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

Say? What could I say? I’d said everything! right? RIGHT? ...!

“I’m sorry!” I squeaked.

“What Was that? Tasty one?” A drop of hot spit landed next to my face.

“IM SORRY!”

His smile became a crescent moon before he picked me up and set me on my feet.

“There’s hope for you after all,” he said.

—

A part of him, and not a small part, felt a bit bad for what he was about to do. And there wasn’t time or opportunity to get it approved so he might get reprimanded. Plus it might mean he would have to see her again. But it was the only way. Ok, maybe not the only way, but the quickest way, and the sooner the better with Heedless Wreckers.

“For your transgressions I should have killed you, or at the very least made you work to repay the damage,” he tried to look thoughtful.

Goldie inched ever so slightly to the edge of the windowsill. Yonah flicked his eyes and tapped a finger so she knew he’d noticed. She gave him a guilty smile, but made no more motions to flee. Hopefully she was paying attention. This was a bit involved and Heedless Wreckers weren’t known for being able to handle complex tasks.

“Instead I’m giving you a quest!”

—

Out of all the things I anticipated him saying, “I’m giving you a quest” was not one of them.

No one ever gave me quests. I’ve always had to find my own. They were never as glorious as I wished. For some reason I’ve always had to give up most of my reward money or loot for “damages” or whatever. So unfair.

Fuck I needed to pay attention! If I failed he would surely eat me. And kill me this time!

“I’m in need of some hard to get spell components, including the missing piece of the spell itself. Fortunately they can all be found in th capital city. From Fowl Business Apothecary i require powdered hens teeth, 5 grams filtered through dried Red Fanged Weaver webs. I need some of those webs too, fresh.”

Oh gods this was a lot already and it was the first item!!!

“At least 6 pieces of Prickly Pear Fruit and the crystallized thorns from those pieces! Keep track of whose quills belong to who! I believe Midbar’s Emporium will have them in stock, if not they can point you to and imports market, make sure to get pears attached to the leaf, I’ll just have to crystallize the quills myself.”

What? Prickly pear? Quills? Oh he means desert candy!

“Petrified Snail Skulls, pilfered woodlouse hats, and Bottled Pygmy Goat laughter from Pixilious Proprieties.”

He stopped and considered, “you won’t have a problem with riddle solving right? Pix doesn’t let anyone into their shop without answering a riddle. Powers their magic I think. And while you can then make purchases, they will generously discount items for each additional riddle answered”

I dearly wished I could write all this down! I would never remember it. But I had no paper! No pen! No parchment or ink! And even if I did, I’m still damp.

The giant stroked its goatee.

“I should really write all this down,” he mumbled, and walked over to his desk, rummaging through the drawers, which I thought odd since it was just paper and ink right?

Then a thought struck me… I could.. Run. Right now. While his back was turned. No quest! No problems! Running is one of my special talents, it has saved me many times. This might be my only chance. But I didn’t, which was definitely the right choice as the evil giant came back, snatched me off the window sill and placed me on the desk as he finished gathering supplies.

I refrained from mentioning that I couldn’t carry a giant sized list. At least he wrote in a language I could read. Repeating each line as he wrote them; very considerate.

“Oh!” he said halfway through, “There are some more common components I’m running low on, if you can’t find them all don’t stress about it.”

His new calm, almost friendly attitude was freaking me out! Speaking as if I was his regular delivery boy, and not someone he was inclined to eat for dinner just 15 minutes prior!

“Make sure you visit The King’s Treasury first, I’ll notify them of your visit. You need a Treasury Seal to purchase things, as you won’t have the coin with you, and the merchants don’t know you and thus wouldn’t be inclined to sell you some of the rarer items even if you did. Not without considerable mark-up.”

The treasury!?

“And finally,” he looked down at me. There was more than a glint of hunger in those eyes.

“The Library. You will be heading to the Mystical Archives, they will be expecting you, but tell them your name and that you are in search of the following items: First, 27th page of the 12th book on the 3rd shelf of the nearest bookcase right of the door to the section on hyper-natural phenomenon”

“Why-?” but he narrowed his eyes. Yep. not going to question it.

“And a copy of A Nation of Ash Volume 5: Compendium of the Historical and All Too True Sorcery of the Kingdom of AniDeva in the 4th Era Following The Pheonix Storm With A Thorough Index of Relevant Spells and Enchantments By Omexaryl Othar Odelis, Grand Magister of the Realm (3rd Edition)”

Was that even a real book?

It suddenly occurred to me this could be a wild cockatrice chase.

The list was complete, and he blew on it with breath that shivered in the air, drying it instantly.

Then he folded it up, his eyes flashing orange every time he pressed in a crease. I just stood there as it got smaller and smaller until I could easily fit it in my bag.

“Don’t open the list indoors,” he said, handing it to me. I took it without thinking. “It’s not shrunken. It will fold back up itself.”

The trip back to the windowsill was only a few seconds and he did carry me. It wasn’t so bad now that he wasn’t playing the villain. He still didn’t like me, and I couldn’t blame him. We definitely got off on the wrong foot. Mostly my fault. But he did eat me…

That’s all in the past. I was ready to get on with my quest. Even if it was just shopping.

“If I may ask something, Sir-“

“Mr HaEsh” an eye twitched but didn’t flare. He hadn’t given me his name beforehand after all.

“Mr… Ha-Esh” … his name was ‘The Fire’, a bit on the nose.

“Where is the capital from here?”

My hair dried as he heaved a sigh right at my face.

“I couldn’t tell you. No, I really can’t. Just keep walking until out of the forest. Ask someone for a map or directions at the first town you come to.”

Before setting off, he gave me a satchel of provisions. I took this as a sign that he actually wanted me to succeed in my mission.

I thanked him for this chance and he just grunted. But the corners of his mouth twitched upwards slightly.

If I wasn’t on a quest I would have lingered in the garden! In the daylight it was incredible. I wanted to smell every flower, caress every leaf! Not the time.

I ran off.

—-

Finally he could breathe easy. And hope she didn’t burn down the woods on her way out. That… shouldn’t happen. The Mystic Woods was too powerful for even a developed Heedless Wrecker. It was more likely to hasten her exit, at least make that part of her quest uneventful.

Yonah would have loved to go downstairs, reheat his dinner, even drink the certainly flat mead, take a bath, dress his still aching wounds, and sleep all the rest of the day. And he would. But there were a few things to take care of.

Mainly one thing.

He returned to his desk and touched the filigree frame of the mirror and spoke.

“Please put me through to an Operator of His Majesty King Benyamin of Orr, on the request of His Royal Mage, Yonah HaEsh, designation phey-tef-dal-memi-gamil-gamil ” it was long but at least he didn’t have to make up a stupid rhyme. And Yet, if one didn’t say “please” it wouldn’t work at all. Mirrors.

It took a minute for someone to answer, but finally the familiar face of Nava Holtz materialized. Skin almost as dark as warm night night sky, and long black braids ornamented with gold and silver.

She had been an Apprentice Op when Yonah was first hired, assigned to him because none of the more senior Ops wanted to deal with the evil giant firewitch who, as far as the administration was concerned, was more trouble than he was worth. Working well with him earned her some fast promotions and Over the years he’d proven himself. Ops were less rude to his face at the very least. Nava was still his favorite, she had been so patient and kind with his adjusting to his new position.

Which is why he wished someone else had answered, he didn’t want her to deal with this bullshit. Of course, he could think of no one better.

“Yonah! It’s good to see you, oh my word” she gasped, “I heard you had to wrangle talleks.”

Actually, he was glad it was Nava, he didn’t feel up to polite formalities.

She had not failed to notice his sorry state.

“Oh, yes! Um… I’ll have the report later, you can let Marni know I got them to settle down. It wasn’t easy,”

“No, I can see that,” she said, her genuine concern was much appreciated.

In his full report he would mention how they resisted magical restrained, requiring him to physically wrestle them. With diamond claws and fangs, and jagged rocks sticking out of their fur, he was thankful to have only suffered lacerations and bruises. Once they calmed down, and thank fuck they spoke dwarvish (an ancient dialect, but it was sufficient), he burned some inscence and played a flute and off to slumberland they went.

One of them, the youngest, but the largest, wanted to remain awake. And the sleeping ritual only worked on bears who wanted it to. That would be interesting. And he should tell The King, but that wasn’t why he called. For now it sat by its parents, keeping vigil.

“I figured out who woke them,” he said, Nava’s eyes went wide, “and you’re not going to like it…”

He explained about the girl.

“Are you sure she’s Heedless?”

“Yes, I could smell it on her,”

“So if you unlocked Hindsight then…” he could practically hear her heart plummet to the floor.

“You didnt!”

Yonah grimaced, “I did… she’ll be at the treasury in a few days. The tasks I set her should help her think things through. It was a long list, she can’t wing it. And some of the items require special transport methods. She’ll have to plan. I copied the instructions I gave her, I’ll send them over. I trust you can contact the necessary guilds?”

Nava sighed, “Yes, of course. And you did the right thing. It’s just going to be a lot of paperwork.” In fact she was already writing as they spoke.

“The last thing she’ll be doing is a library quest. Two actually. Standard and Precision Exploratory. Can you put me through to Archivist Ahava?”

Nava stopped writing, “Don’t they hate you?”

“Yes,” exactly.

Nava smiled, “So you want them to deal with this. Fun. They are the best brownie for the job. Just don’t give them any grief.”

“I’ll try. And thanks, I’ll call again soon,” he smiled.

“Transferring call,” she said, smiling back, as she fiddled with her mirror set up.

The mirror swirled And went iridescent before resolving into shelves of book! Directly in view of a pile of that rose from largest to smallest.

“Oh me oh my this had better be good! I was in the middle of some important business, very important indeed!” the squeaky yet harsh voice belonged to a stout brownie with light grey-brown skin, straw like hair nearly bursting from its bun, and 4 jewel-like eyes. On their body they wore a fancy, flowing, but rather plain colored suit. And on their face they wore a scowl.

“/Yonah/,” Ahava never refused to be formal with him, and not out of familiarity. They climbed up the stack of books to sit facing the mirror.

“Ahava,”

Their lower left eye twitched as he too addressed them informally. He really shouldn’t, they were higher ranked… one of the highest ranked, Royal Mages.

“Fortune has once again done the disservice of connecting us so make it snappy, I have work to do! And what is the meaning of calling me looking like something a dragon chewed up and out”

Yonah grinned and Ahava’s scowl deepened, “Couldn’t be helped, I was wrestling Talleks. And don’t lie to me, I know for a fact you take tea at this time, for an hour.”

Two eyes narrowed and two eyes widened, their long fingers curled and uncurled.

“But I’ll get to the point. I encountered a Heedless Wrecker today, who needs to be taught the use of Foresight. I’ve sent her on a quest, and it includes the library,”

He explained to the increasingly annoyed Archivist, who was turning an amusing shade of blue.

“I cannot sign off on sending a Heedless into the catacombs! No way no how! There is not a single archivist trained to handle such things!”

Yonah raised his brows and blinked a smile.

“No no no! Out of the question! I will turn her away, yes I will! See if I don’t!”

“But I really do need that book. Otherwise I’ll have to come myself.”

That earned him a glare from all four eyes. Yonah could see the gears turning in their head. Thanks to his status as a dangerous magical entity, he had to be under escort when visiting The Archive. The King required Ahava to be that escort. It was either him or Goldie.

“I gave her a list of items to get for me, several of them are actually for her use in the catacombs’ challenges.”

All but one of the eyes closed as Ahava crossed their arms, taking deep breaths.

“Fine, I’ll do it. I got nothing better to do, and it’s been a while since I went on an adventure. Now, I must get back to my tea. Yes I must”

They disconnected without another word.

It would take at least a few days for Goldie to reach the capital. He had time to take a bath, eat, and change into a soft nightgown before using the Magic Pantry to send the quest details to Nava.

Along with a loaf of bread small enough to share with the entire Ops Team.

[FIN]

[Thanks for reading! please reblog/message me with feedback! for more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/+mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’ on my blog! For thief stories only search “MW Thieves”]

#safe vore #soft vore #gt vore #g/t vore #vore writing #vore art

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umbillicalnoose · 5 years

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i think that you would think im pretty and would like my poetry and i want to share it with you. im shy.

to be honest, im very apathetic these days. im not the nice “cutesy baby flower petal boy” i used to be. a lot has happened & im bitter & sullen & all in all, a pretty shitty friend/person to know. i used to possess some redeeming qualities, believe it or not, even if they were construed by the subconscious in an attempt to be likeable - a facade, even tho its only a facade, is still tangible, still there, is still something, even if not authentic. is poorer character forgivable in the name of presenting more authentically? but nah. that makes it sound like im putting effort into being a better person, which im not. im just sort of fried & done. its been a very long time since i played the role i built for myself on here of the “small fawn boy who wants to help girls” lmaooo. how embarrassing. altho, i was just a kid, & i guess, if you had a tumblr as a teenager, you went thru some cringe (i know the use of that word has fallen in on itself & adopted its own definition but for lack of a better one) ass phases, whether it was kinning or malingering mental illness or oh fucking christ, all that gender bullshit, etc etc. from what ive observed, tho, loosely following kids im still casually friends with that i met on here, i think we’ve all managed to Grow The Fuck Up, at least a little. most of us have jobs or r in school or have partners - growing up & moving on is a very surreal experience to watch/go thru. im moving at my own pace & ive accepted that - im still currently using & starving myself & concocting a suicide plan every day but at least i use clean needles as much as possible, i actively & honestly do strive for the bare minimum calorically, & um able to work with the mentality of “well ill have this when i need it but todays not that day” a lot more readily, in relation to suicide shit. ive finally found a therapist who Really Gets It, is a frontrunner internationally on ritual & extreme abuse & mind control. its pretty incredible what a few years with a good therapist can do. anyways. im sorry, i know you didnt ask for all this & im not even sure why i divulged. i guess, what tipped me off, was your attempt at sounsing “cute” - dude, cut that shit out, i promise youll be a lot better off. & i know everyone interchanges aspects of their personality based on who theyre talking to/who they percieve themselves to be talking to, but i feel like not a lot of people give enough credence to the internet & its hand in shaping/molding young people, kids, vulnerable dumbasses, especially tumblr (tho, i get that its a relatively new phenomenon) - u get a bunch of the “weird”, “alternative”, ““ostracized” kids together on a website, of course its gonna nurture a culture of hypervalidatoon & pretending to be sick in order to fit in to the point that its not an act anymore & exacerbation of symptoms & basically, just sucking each others dicks, sitting in ur own shit, & never ending coddling. & then, you have the older group of kids, who have played this game before but instead of helping or ignoring the Dumbshit kids, they indulge their own normally-buried-but-unleashed-by-internet-anonymity sadism/human instinct to just be fucking dicks & so now you have this vicious cycle of anger & hatred & fucking melodrama up the urethra. im sorry, i know im comig off as/am being harsh but god fuckin dammit yknow? also, this isnt directed at you, specifically, more of a generalized thing, @ myself included. so uh. i mean, if u still wanna share it with me after reading all this, id be happy to read ur poetry. i used to be over the top nice & then reverted to Major Asshole & am now trying to find that sweet middle spot - honoring & allowing myself to share my pain without putting it on others. which is really hard!! cuz becoming a Dick was difficult in that it forced me to be more honest with my true self & as such, more vulnerable - now in trying to become Kinda Nice again because despite being a pulsating scrotom, ive had the intense desire for friendship & human interaction, while simultaneously doing things that i was consciously aware was pushing others away - but then, if i pretend to be nice, where does that authenticity i worked for & was so scared of go? & i dont mean telling someone their new haircut looks nice even when it doesnt - thats just not being a dick. but i guess, those r the normal trials & tribulations of any relationship & adolescent developing identity. which is weird too - dealing with “normal” issues, i mean. whats the point if your life/limbs/breaking point arent at risk? whats the point when your best friends already dead. im sick of people calling "survivors” (despise that word, so fucking female-originated & overdramatic) “brave” & “strong” - surviving is not brave or strong. its just survival. you wouldnt call an animal brave for running for its life from a predator but you would call a dog courageous for going into a burning building to save its owner. premeditated action on the notion that you are probably going to be hurt is brave. being subjected to pain with no choice is not. theres no “silver lining” or anything “good” to be drawn from it either - sure it may have made x a more compassionate person or made y more introspective & gentle but you know what would have been even fucking better??? if the shit hadnt happened in the first place! let x be an asshole & y be self absorbed - the “benefits”, so to speak, do not outweigh the cost, not by a long fucking shot. its not only patronizing to hear garbage like that, but a slap in the face to know that anyone could possibly see anything good coming from that nightmare & that the characteristics, good or bad, you developed either in response to or as a result of, are worth praise. dont tell me im strong for doing what i had to to escape a torture chamber - tell me im perseverant for studying my ass off & passing that test last week. in the words of one of my dearest & most fucking brilliant friends, “pain doesnt owe me/you purpose - the need to intellectualize & assign meaning to pain & death is not only futile, but harmful.” & honestly, i think that it stems from weakness (in most cases - i realize theres a plethora of other reasons such as those who r just desperate for something to hold on to or r hyperintellectual & analytical or who have been pressured by external “support” systems to find the “good” etc etc) - while the majority of people view the person who “can find the good in everything” (strictly speaking only in relation to trauma/tragedy here & more in denunciation of those that celebrate this trait as opposed to vilifying “survivors” who respond this way, though in my experience, its very very very rarely the “survivor” that perpetrates this ideology ) as strong, i sort of see it as a weakness - their inability to sit with & absorb their own pain or that of others is so strong that not only do they have to frantically pull rainbows out of the teeth of a meat cleaver, they also have to exist within this strange (tho, not malicious - more subconscious) superiority complex. like, nah, dude, some times shit is just awful. you cant tell me anything fucking good came out of a four year old girl being kidnapped, gangraped, & tortured for two years, before being impaled & left to die on a stake. her mom opened a non profit organization? oh well thank fucking god for that!!! those that believe the latter to be more “enlightened” or whatever the fuck r the same people who say shit like “dying is easy - living is harder” & i get that that its supposed to be interpreted metaphorically for the most part - giving up is easy, trying isnt (which also.....isnt true??? admitting defeat & fully accepting the fact that ur fucking helpless is beyond hard lmao???) - but pretend youre somewhere, anywhere outside ur sunny little fucking yoga studio full of white women whos biggest issues r the pta & johnny whos failing math, & lets say your life is in real, imminent danger, a gun is to your head & i want you to not scream or cry or beg for ur life since dying is “easier”. if dying is so easy, why do the majority of ppl cling to it with such desperation - why is suicide illegal? why do some ppl go thru 100s of chemo treatments even tho the doctors say theyre just prolonging the inevitable, ppl who cut off a diseased arm so it wont spread, those who walk dozens of miles every day for food & water, etc? & i know & understand the survival instinct better than anyone, even when i wanted to die more than anything, my natural instincts would kick in with no conscious neural input & id do what i had to do. im not condemning those who cling to life (ok - a little. ur wasting resources out of ur own fear. but i also realize thats just me being a Fucking Asshole As Always cuz technically, im doing the same thing tho its more due to lack of opportunity rather than fear. i just think, societally, death should be more normalized, discussed, & not made out to be so unknown & scary), instead just reprimanding those who say shit like that (inspirational facebook quotes). especially cuz most of the ppl who do spew that shit have never gone thru anything even remotely difficult - their worst nightmare is a Big Scary Black Man grabbing them on the street, mugging them, & touching their tits. & i also know that these stupid ass sayings are to be applied to bullshit like exercise & fitness (“no pain no gain” is another one of my Favorites) & not fucking torture or even just ur run of the mill rape, even that would probably smash the rose tinted banana republic shades off their beverly hills tanned faces. but ive heard the no pain no gain one a handful of times in the last few weeks, specifically from doctors performing procedures in preparation for my bottom surgery. & i know its supposed to be encouraging & they have no way of knowing, but its just like, buddy, u have no idea who youre fucking talking to. & im starting to understand what THEY mean when they say it - pain with a reward is infinitely more tolerable than pain just for the sake of pain; like, a tattoo, it hurts, but u know, when its done, its gonna be sick as fuck. when u r able to fall back on the idea that its for something u rlly want, its A Lot easier to handle as opposed to pain thats Just Pain - theres no reward for it except, i guess, that the more u experience it, the closer u r to the end of it lmao. i mean, i still hate when ppl say it cuz for most of my life, pain was just pain, & the “reward” was the opportunity to go home at the end & so whenever ppl say that, my mind just immediately resorts back to that & im just like haha fuck u. but im trying to remember my experiences r definitely not universal & im starting to sorta understand what they mean i think. but, flipping gears here, & going back to the sentiment of “everything happens for a reason”, the base philosophy of psuedo deep Fuckwads - a girls dad didnt fuck her “for a reason”, everything doesnt happen “for a reason”. like ok, hypothetically, the kid he impregnated her with & that she was forced to have at 12 may surpass all odds & not become a homeless junkie & instead become a world renowned doctor who finds the cure for cancer. but she wasnt raped repeatedly from the age of six for that “reason”, no matter what anyone says & honestly, the liberation of the masses does not justify the suffering of one, especially a child. in my eyes at least. but again, im a bitter asshole. sorry i just Went The Fuck Off here oh my god.....if u read all this, thanks, pal. if not, thats cool too. but yea, send me ur stuff, id totally be down to read it. as for me potentially thinking ur cute, i have to look at my disgusting shitstain of a “face” every goddamn day so everyone else to me is fuckin aphrodite. but im also tryin to not put so much worth into physical appearance- its not something that should be complimented cuz its just smth a person was born with which is the same reason it shouldnt be insulted. this is gonna sound gay & stupid but i personally find that a persons essence & personality really permeates. you can meet someone who, objectively, isnt all that great looking, but once u get to know them, u really see their beauty - how the sun catches in their hair, their dilated pupils looking up at u from under long eyelashes in the dark, the birthmark on their right shoulder that they despise but that is so Them, the gap in their teeth, etc. & idk how to phrase this without it sounding like “well ur ugly but at least ur a good person”, cuz that only reiterates the societally indoctrinated emphasis on appearance & my kneejerk reaction to assure the person in question that thats not what im saying is only another result of that!!! its inescapable!!! but no, really, its not just a matter of “its on the inside that counts” - physically, they change or maybe, actually this is more likely, when i first meet them, my “default” eyes r just looking for features that i know im immediately attracted to (tall, blonde, sickly as in sunken eyes sticklike pale but still looks like she could & will beat the shit out of me) but as i fall in love or get to know them better, my eyes adjust & i notice & adore the beauty that was there all along. so uh. idk if ill think ur “cute”. but probably, yes, ill think ur an angel.

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thekitchensnk · 5 years

Text

and the spider lilies bloomed in the fall (chapter 7)

Rating: T Warnings: Violent imagery Pairing: Gin/Ran Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 “They say that lovers doomed never to see each other again still see the higanbana growing along their path, even to this day.”

A girl collapses on a dusty road one day. A boy takes her home.

The girl lives.

—

(The boy doesn’t.)

She frowned in concentration, and her tongue stuck out from between her teeth. She stared with pin-point focus at the knife in her hands, her gaze absolutely ferocious and directed at the object of her wrath.

“Don’t move. Don’t move a muscle. Don’t. Even. Breath,” she gritted out.

Cold sweat coated the back of his neck.

“Nah, Ran-chan-“ Gin attempted, trying to placate her.

“No!” she shouted with determination. “I’ve got this. Don’t you dare.”

With a swish of the knife and a few colourful expletives, she cut carefully at the last of his lopsided, unevenly chopped hair.

“Aha! There,” she said with triumph, her hands on her hips. “All done. You should have a look at your reflection in the river. I’ve done a brilliant job, even if I say so myself.” She puffed up with pride and laughed magnificently. “The girls in town will be fighting after you.”

“Ya’ did say so ya’self,” he pointed out grumpily. “And have those hags in town after me? Thanks a bunch, Rangiku. Done me a real favour there.”

Her satisfaction was incorrigible, and her self-praise had known no bounds even then.

“You’re just being petulant because you cut it lopsided when you did it yourself, and you looked stupid for a whole week because you wouldn’t let me fix it. Face it, I’m the best and you’re the worst!” she sang.

“I was cuttin’ it with a knife!” he said defensively.

“So was I!”

That’s why he had been nervous to let her fix his hair, though he would never say as much out loud. Any man would be nervous with a sharp blade pointed at his neck. “Yeah, well-“ she had him cornered, and he knew it –“let’s see how well ya’ did, then. Can’t be possibly be worse than my job,” he muttered. “Pass me the water?”

She passed one of their water jugs obediently, and he traipsed outside with it. He found a level, flat stretch of rock, and poured the water out onto it. He went silent for a moment, reaching down into the dark plains where his power lay. He inhaled, and reached out for it, and instead of throwing it at the water and the rock, the way he had once done, he shaped it to his intent, feeling the contours and implications of the word frozen in his mind. Stillness, he thought. Fixed. Cold. He looked at the curve of the water, and imagined its fluidity.

The amorphous puddle in front of him froze slowly, and he exhaled in triumph.

Next to him, Rangiku whooped.

“That’s amazing! Have you been practicing?! When did you learn to do that?”

It had taken a degree of incredibly fine, precise control. The power they had loathed being shaped in such measured, purposeful ways. It was as if he was missing some element of the process, some set of commands or rules. The water would unfreeze in seconds, he knew- his power couldn’t really do ice- and so he bent quickly to look at himself in the ice.

There was nothing lopsided about his hair at all anymore. She had done a very good job, he had to admit it. He glared.

“Alright, ya’ win. Ya’ the hair cutting champ.”

He saw her reflected in the impromptu mirror he had made, and her hand made its way to his head, her fingers threading delicately through its newly cut strands; her hand ghosted down to his neck, and tenderly, so tenderly it could break his heart, she brushed away some of the remnants which still lay there.

“Whoops! Missed some. Sorry,” she said, barely thinking about it.

Goosebumps rose on his neck at the casual intimacy of her touch, and he watched her, unaware, in the reflection, turning over in his mind how often it felt like there was no dividing line between him and her, that they were two halves of the same thing made whole; gold and silver, boy and girl, light and dark.

When she turned to look at her own reflection, he looked away quickly, as if burnt, suddenly shy to be caught.

She frowned slightly, and her hand left his neck to play with the ends of her own hair.

"It's getting long," she mused. She turned to look at him, and his gaze jerked upwards, to look her in her forget-me-not eyes. "Will you cut it for me?"

The knife was in her hand and she offered it to him, and for some reason, his mouth went dry.

"After the job I did on my hair? Ya'd trust me after that?" he tried to stall for time.

“Yes," she said simply. "It's different, cutting someone else's hair. You can see properly. You’ll be fine." She paused. “If you leave me bald, I will get my revenge. You know that, right?”

His eyes went to the knife that she held out to him, and he was haunted, suddenly, by the thought of driving it pommel deep through her neck until the blade stuck out her trachea, by the thought of arterial spray and the crimson of her blood splattering over the plants and across his chest, about its hot liquid warmth gushing out over his body and going cold in the morning air; how her body would go slack, and her eyes dull, and her skin gray, and how her mouth would gape in the way that all corpse mouths seemed to gape.

If she only knew the things he had done with that knife, and how easy, how simple, they had been- like drawing water from the river, or pulling carrots from the ground.

Did the ability to imagine doing such things to her make him capable of them? He didn’t know, and he didn't want to know.

He shivered in the warm air, feeling a little sick, but took the proffered knife. Reluctantly, he bid her to sit down in front of him anyway.

Her amber hair lay slightly askew, and he could see a glimpse of her neck, made golden by the sun, between its strands. It would be so easy, he thought, and yet. And his mind kept butting up against that thought. It would have been the simplest thing in the world, like snuffing out a lantern, and yet-

Could he?

He would sooner stab himself.

She bared her neck to him, and let him hold his knife there, millimetres from her, and she did not flinch for a second. It was as if she didn’t realise at all that with one slip, he could end her.

She trusts me, and the truth of that settled across his shoulders like a blanket, like a burden. She trusts me with her life. He felt sick.

Would I trust her with mine?

With a sure and certain hand, he began to cut, and unaware of the thoughts which had raced through his small head, she chattered on blithely.

---

One day in the early autumn, he took her to a sunny spot in the garden and made a cheerful announcement. "This spot is for ya'. Ya' grow whatever ya' want here- onions, scallions, garlic, cress, cabbage, whatever ya' want. I’ll help ya’."

It had come so out of the blue that she was completely thrown.

"What?" she asked dumbly.

He moved from foot to foot energetically. "The garden is ours, but I want ya' to have this bit for ya'self. I'll help ya' turn over the earth so that we can start growin' things."

"To grow anything?" she asked.

"Anythin'," he reaffirmed impatiently.

She hesitated for a moment, but he knew her face too well for it to slip past unnoticed.

"What's the matter?" he asked immediately.

"Nothing," she said a bit too quickly.

"I know what 'nothin'' looks like," he said. "Spill."

She bit her lip, and her ears started to go pink with embarrassment.

"Could we grow flowers?" and for some reason, she felt shy. She looked up at him, and he was grinning. "Don't laugh at me!" she demanded, her face hot.

He laughed, but it was a happy, care-free thing, a laugh which rose up into the sky and into the winds, and carried her up there with it. He would be sad to pass up on regular scallions, but there was always the occasional patch growing wild in the woods, so it would not be too much of a loss.

"I'm not laughin' at ya'," he said easily. "It's ya' patch of the garden. I wanted ya' to grow what ya' wanted. If Ran-chan wants flowers, she'll get flowers. Come down here and help me turn over the soil." He beckoned her closer. "It's a mucky job, so ya'll want to hitch ya' yukata up, like so," He had gathered the fabric above his knees and tied it before kneeling on the threadbare grass.

She had followed suit, and knelt beside him, her calf bumping absent-mindedly against his. Her limbs had been thin and starved once, he recalled, when she came to him, but they had grown healthy and strong in the time since. The sight pleased him

"We're just goin' to turn over the earth with our hands," he said cheerfully. "Ain't got no spade or fork to use."

She glared at him. "You didn't say that we'd have to put our hands in the mud for this."

"Nah, Ran-chan, that's just life. Gotta get ya' hands dirty sometimes and muck in if you want flowers."

The ground gave way easily, even only using their hands, and the air was soon full of the dark, loamy smell of fresh earth. He delighted in picking up worms when they found them, pink and wriggling, and dangling them in front of her, because she'd shriek and laugh and push him away.

"That's disgusting!" she'd shout in outrage. "How can you even touch it, Gin?"

She appreciated it even less when he slyly bumped her with his shoulder, causing her to over balance and land in the mud.

Working together, they cleared the area quickly, though they did not get away unscathed. He had several streaks of mud on his face from when he'd brought a worm too close to her, and she'd swiped her hands on his face in revenge. Her knees and the front of her legs were brown with dirt, and her hands were not worth mentioning. But they had smiled, and joked, and the hot morning had passed quickly.

By early afternoon, the sun was shining thick and fast, and they were almost finished. He had rolled his sleeves up, and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm.

"We're almost done here, I reckon," Gin said decisively. "I'll stay and neaten up the edges. Do ya' know which flowers ya' want to plant up?"

"Some of those spindly red ones that grow by the river," she said, having thought about it whilst they had been digging. "They're not due to bloom yet, but it shouldn't be long." Her eyes shone with excitement.

"Go on then," he said indulgently. "Make sure not to damage the roots. Ya' know what ya' doin'?

Her answer was an undecipherable noise yelled back at him and lost to the wind as she sped off to the river as quickly as her small legs could carry her.

The patch of cleared earth was not large, and was made clumsily by the small hands of children, but it would do.

He attempted for a few moments to neaten up its edges, but was too lazy and content to exert much effort. His knees ached from having knelt too long on the hard ground, and he knew he would be in desperate need of a dip in the river. He almost groaned at the thought. Birds sang in the eaves, an unmelodic, but cheerful twitter, and the sun baked the back of his neck.

Idly, he thought of flowers, and pondered whether they would attract bees, fat and bumbling, and whether they could possibly get honey for their efforts. It would be nice, he thought. Maybe we could dip the persimmons in it.

It was, he thought, a beautiful day, and so he decided to bask in the sun on his back until she returned, a satisfied vulpine smile on his face. Let her catch him, he thought.

She emerged twenty minutes later from the forest, her arms filled with a bouquet of crimson, spidery lilies which she held like a bride. Some were as of yet still only in the bud, some beginning to reach the fullness of their bloom.

Her face peaked out from between the beautiful red flowers with their strange, ungainly tendrils. Her face was flushed, and her eyes sparkled and the sun played in her hair.

She was so beautiful, that day.

She raised the flowers to him in triumph and as she did so, they began to tumble from her arms, and she had to bend and fumble clumsily not to drop them. He could not help but smile softly at the sight.

Looking at her, something in his chest tightened, and he could not say what it was, only that it was half agony, half tremendous sweetness, and entirely of her making.

He rose to his feet.

"Here," he said calmly, "Give them to me. I'll carry 'em for ya’."

She looked up at him quickly, and smiled brightly when she met his gaze, her eyes crinkling warmly. She handed the flowers over.

"They're pretty," he mused, opening his eyes fully, though the flowers took up only the smallest part of his attention. She felt heat rise in her cheeks, and could not explain why it did.

He felt a tendril-like petal between his fingers. "This was a good idea ya' had. I wonder what these are?"

She had no idea. In truth, she knew little about flowers, only that there were certain kinds that you shouldn't eat because they were poisonous, some that came in the spring, and some that came in the summer. There had not been the space to think about beautiful things before she met him.

She had chosen these because she knew that they were bright and interestingly shaped, and it had been as simple as that.

"I don't know," she said. "It’s just a pl-". She broke off, and stretched out her hand, distracted. She could have sworn she felt rain.

The world paused, like the attention of creation was focused on a grand spectacle far off in the distance.

She heard a hesitant pitter-patter.

And then an uncertain stutter of rain drops bouncing off the ground.

The gentle tapping grew heavier and heavier until, suddenly, it became a drumming cacophony, the sound echoing across the garden, and the world turned green and blurred as the air overhead filled with water, with great lashings of water, pelting down. The sun kept beating brightly and relentlessly, and the raindrops shone like diamonds hanging in the air, and the world tilted and overturned.

She could not see; he could not see.

She grabbed his hand blindly, and startled, he allowed the flowers to slip from his arms and his fingers and crash to the ground. She ran exhilarated through the rain, laughing and laughing deliriously, leaping over the vegetable beds and odd mounds of earth, and he followed, delighted and laughing and letting himself be led after her.

He would have followed her anywhere.

When they reached the house, they were soaked through, and water dripped on the floor. His hair lay flat and drenched across his forehead, and hers hung in a wild mane about her head. They bumped together clumsily, and clung to each other to keep one another steady. Their feet were wet and water pooled on the ground.

His lips had found themselves on her forehead, so tightly were they pressed against one another, and the rain clattered against the roof like the banging of a war drum.

"The fox is- the fox is having his wedding," she laughed, struggling to catch her breath.

"What?" he asked, dazed and blinking, trying to wipe the water from his eyes. There was still mud from earlier in the day on his face, and it smeared where he rubbed.

"I-" she paused for a moment and glared at him. "I don't know! I don’t know why I said that. It's a saying, I think."

"What's it mean?" he said, trying to catch his breath.

"I dunno. It's just what you say when the sun shines and the rain rains at the same time. I think I must have heard it when I was still alive. The fox is cunning, and sneaky, and powerful, right? When he does stuff, he doesn’t like people to see, so he makes it rain.” She explained it all as if it were commonsense. “He didn’t want us peeking in on him."

"Huh. The fox is havin' his weddin'," he echoed, turning the phrase over slowly in his mouth. It was poetic, he thought- but he still didn’t have the first clue what it meant.

But she had moved on, stepping away from him to peer outside. The air was thick with falling rain.

"Will the flowers be alright, do you reckon? Will they die if we don't put them in the ground right away?" she asked, concern written all over her face. "It was tough work digging them up and carrying them here. I got mud under my nails."

"They should be okay," he considered. "They'll get plenty of water in the rain at least, and rains like this never last long."

"Ugh," she groaned suddenly, looking at her arms. "I'm still covered in dirt. I wanted to go and wash up in the river before we ate and went to sleep.” She pouted, her hands on her hips. “Maybe I should just take my clothes off and stand outside in the rain and let it do the washing for me," she said petulantly.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Nope," he said in a tone that brooked no argument. "That would be silly. And anyway, there's not enough rain now for ya' to get clean."

“I bet a bath in a sunshower would feel like nothing else in the world,” she teased, not because she knew what it implied, but because he had forbid it.

But as if his words had intervened directly with the weather itself, the drumming on the roof quietened to a patter and stopped completely soon after.

Birdsong resumed, and with it the lazy background hum of cicada music.

“You did that!” she accused. “You stopped the rain with your powers!”

“I wouldn’t know how to do that even if I wanted to!” he complained. “I don’t know why ya’ complainin’ anyway- standing in the rain wouldn’t have got ya’ clean, and now there’s no rain, ya’ can take your bath in the river, like you wanted.”

She huffed at him.

“But we’ll plant the flowers first.”

He sighed in frustration, and ran a hand through his hair. The dirt on his hands transferred, leaving a dark streak, and she giggled at the sight.

“We’ll plant the flowers first,” he said.

---

(And they had. They had bloomed through the autumn that year until even after her birthday had come and gone, and they had come back year after year after year without fail, even after they had both left the old house to tumble down into ruin and the garden to be overcome by the wilderness.

The spider lilies had shone in bursts of scarlet and crimson against the verdant trees, and even when they planted other flowers there, they always took pride of place.)

(They were still there even when she returned years later, a tired woman weighed down by grief and betrayal, but wiser.

She looked at those flowers then and knew too late their irony. She thought of then of the fox’s wedding day, and of a foolish girl who had carried a bouquet of red spider lilies in her slender arms to the boy she had loved, bride-like and ignorant, so ignorant, of what was to come.)

#bleach #gin ichimaru #rangiku matsumoto #ginran #ichimaru gin #spider lilies #it's time for some s y m b o l i s m #this ship #this goddamn ship #comment reblog like shout at me with a megaphone #save me from my excel spreadsheets #you're all <3 tho #srsly

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quarterfromcanon · 5 years

Text

Lost Control and Tumbled Overboard Gladly

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 24 - Instrumental [3,265 words]

When they arrived at her former residence, Heather felt the pit of her stomach tie itself in knots. She pulled into the old parking spot and stared at the front of the house. Valencia occupied the passenger side in tense silence. She followed Heather’s line of sight and gazed the same direction, anxious for entirely different reasons.

Heather sighed. “Here we are.” She unbuckled from the driver’s seat and pocketed the key ring. “They’re waiting for us. Guess we’d better go inside.”

She turned to Valencia. Her friend had not moved an inch.

“Are you gonna stay with the car?” Heather teased gently.

“What should I call them? Are they handshake or hug people? Do your parents go to church? Should I have worn one of my cross necklaces? Are they good cooks? I won’t say anything either way, but what if they see a reaction on my face?” Valencia touched a hand to her lips to stop the flow of inquiries spilling from them. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you on the ride. I did not prep for this at all.” She took a shaky, deep breath then quieted again. Her eyes were wide as she awaited Heather’s response.

“Okay, so, let me see if I can remember all that and take it on one at a time.” Heather’s features scrunched up while she talked through the entire list of concerns. “They don’t have a preference for how you address them. Just don’t copy Rebecca and call them Mr. and Mrs. Heather. They won’t be mad if you do; my parents find it cute, but I don’t care for it, personally. Mom and Dad do have a church they go to, but they’re not ‘church people' in the way that you’re thinking. For my mom, it’s kind of a leftover obligation from her upbringing. My dad’s a little more into it. Mom would be more likely to dig your jewelry because it was pretty than because it indicated your religious background.”

Valencia nodded. A little of the tension left her limbs.

Heather continued. “They’re both decent cooks. Dad taught me. They won’t stare at you while you eat because they will also be eating, so don’t stress about monitoring your poker face. Oh, right, and they’re hug people. If they get excessive, just give me a signal and I can get them to tone it down.” She let her palms fall with a slap against her thighs. “Does that cover everything?”

“I think so.” Valencia clicked the button on the seat belt. She squared her shoulders and activated the passenger side unlock. “Let’s go.”

They exited Heather’s car in unison and walked up the path. Heather assumed the lead to knock at the door. It opened almost immediately. She was greeted with fond caresses and voices an octave higher than their natural register.

“This is V--” Heather began the introduction but found herself guided across the threshold so both parents could fill the doorway as they met their guest.

“Valencia!” Heather’s mom greeted. “Welcome to the funhouse!”

She pulled her into a warm embrace, which Valencia returned with a genuinely touched expression. Her eyes met Heather’s over her mother’s shoulder.

"Told you,” Heather murmured.

“You have a lovely home, Mr. and Mrs. Davis,” Valencia praised as soon as they were far enough inside for her to view the space at large. “Thank you for letting me tag along with Heather today.”

“We’re happy to have you!” Mr. Davis replied. “Hot dogs and burgers are out by the grill, all set for me to throw ’em on. We’ve got the makings for veggie alternatives, too. Heather e-mailed us the recipes.”

Valencia beamed, taken aback but pleased. “Sounds perfect.”

“Enough of our hovering! Lawrence and I will get back to food prep. We’ll let Heather give you the tour.” Mrs. Davis looped her forearm around her husband’s and departed with a cheery wave. “Please, make yourself at home. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Valencia returned the wave vaguely. She appeared dazed by the entire whirlwind encounter.

Heather drew nearer to nudge Valencia’s ribs. “They’re a lot,” she acknowledged once her dad went to the patio and her mom was in the kitchen listening to the portable radio.

“But in a good way.” Valencia elbowed Heather in return. “So, how about that tour?”

Heather cast a look around with both hands in the pockets of her ripped jeans. “Um, this is the living room. And also the dining room. One big space. Kitchen’s on the other side of those shutters in the wall. Downstairs bathroom is over there.”

“Are those yours?” Valencia pointed to shelves near the entryway that were covered in ribbons, trophies, and photographs.

Heather’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Yeah, sorta. They’re basically all participation.”

Valencia crossed the floor in several long strides to investigate the commemorative display. “Wow, you were involved in a lot.”

“Here and there.”

“More than I ever did when I was in school. I took dance for a while, was part of a couple of pageants and church plays. That’s about it.” Valencia traced her fingertip over embossed gold letters. “There’s no pattern. You defied labels and stereotypes even then.”

“You’ve really managed to put a positive spin on ‘flighty’ and ‘indecisive.’”

Valencia gave Heather a light, reprimanding shove. “A positive spin to balance out your negative outlook. Why don’t you like these?”

Heather twitched her shoulders. “Seems kinda weird to build a shrine to nothing. It’s colorful and sweet, I guess, but all these dead ends don’t represent anything significant.”

Valencia grabbed a photo of a very young Heather off the bottom shelf. “Look at that cute little face. She’s not insignificant.” Her fingernail tapped the image. “There’s a bundle of sunshine full of potential.”

Heather laughed. “Okay, see, now I know you’re full of shit. No one has described me as ‘sunny’ in my entire life.”

“Well, they weren’t holding a picture of you at age five.”

Heather rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You are laying it on so thick. Oh my god.”

“Hey, I’m honing my skills, learning how to hype up my girls,” Valencia protested. She restored the snapshot to its place with care. “It still counts even if it lacks finesse. That’s what Rebecca says.”

Heather held her hands aloft in surrender. “I agree. I mean, you’re doing a good job. I’m just only able to take sincere compliments in small doses.”

“We’ll see if we can build up your tolerance.” Valencia poked Heather’s side with her index finger. Heather shied away from the touch but smiled.

“Good luck with that.”

Valencia’s gaze lifted to the painted handprints displayed on the wall. “Aww! How long ago did you make these?”

“Close to twenty years ago for one? Going on fifteen years for the other? The little prints are a Christmas gift from first grade. The bigger ones were something Mom asked me to do after our move to California the year I turned twelve. They’re dated on the back.”

Valencia elevated on tiptoe and angled both away from the wall to peek. “Sure enough. How close are they to your hands now?”

“I’d say almost three yards.”

Valencia blinked several times before she realized Heather was referring to the literal distance between where she stood and the paintings. She lowered her voice in an unamused monotone. “Haha. So funny. Put a hand up there for comparison, smartypants. I’m curious.”

Heather obliged with an even more exaggerated eye roll, but she had to actively suppress a grin.

“The width across is almost the same as in middle school,” Valencia determined. “Your fingers have definitely gotten longer.”

“Do you wanna check my height against the notches on the door frame, too?” Heather joked.

Valencia tilted her head to the side and playfully feigned earnest deliberation. “Maybe later.”

She let her companion continue the tour to the staircase. Heather slid her palm along the railing and left the ground floor with Valencia in tow. “There’s a laundry room and a couple of closets too, but you won’t really need those. The second bathroom’s up here.”

They passed the aforementioned lavatory and beelined into Heather’s bedroom. Valencia gave a low whistle. “No wonder you didn’t try to move these things with you. It all looks heavy as hell.”

A spacious bed and massive headboard with multiple storage compartments dominated the left wall. An equally cabinet-covered entertainment center took up most of the space on the right. There was a desk by the window and old textbooks were stacked high on several flat surfaces. Heather crossed the familiar space and folded herself into a seated position atop the padded desk chair, one leg tucked under her thigh while the other dangled to the floor.

The only leftover spot to sit was the mattress, so Valencia perched at the foot of it with her back straight and her hands clasped in her lap. “Did you actually use all of these cabinets?” she marveled.

“Oh yeah. There’s a lot of old crap in here that I need to sort through at some point. I only took what I saw myself using right away when I moved. Most of the rest is still where I left it. Here, I’ll show you.” Heather climbed onto the bed behind Valencia and crawled toward the angled cabinets behind the pillows. Her guest followed suit. Heather popped open the doors to reveal a crowded collection of well-worn paperbacks. “These were just for my favorites,” she explained. “Salinger, Palahniuk, all of that. I usually felt like rereading before I went to sleep. I put them someplace nearby so I wouldn’t have to get back out of bed.”

“What are they about?” Valencia trailed her fingers down one of the broken spines.

Heather puffed out a breath as she deliberated where to begin. “A lot of things. Chuck’s stuff gets pretty dark and gross but I like that they usually have a twist. J.D.’s are interconnected and really make you think.”

“So it’s one long story?” Valencia’s arm brushed Heather’s when she continued to examine the tightly packed books.

Heather made a so-so gesture with her hand. “There are shared characters that get their own turns. He wrote about this family whose last name was Glass. The kids are kind of a mess, but when you read about their childhood, it helps you start to understand why they ended up the way they are. They deal with a lot of stuff as adults, too: mental health problems, antisemitism, questioning faith, death in the family. More than one death, actually.”

“The Catcher in the Rye,” Valencia read the title underneath her fingertips. “Okay, this one I’ve heard of somewhere. Which sibling is this about?”

“It’s not about any of them,” Heather replied, “but they do basically say in a different one that the second-oldest brother, Buddy, is supposed to have written it. A lot of people think Buddy’s Salinger’s stand-in, so…” She shrugged.

“A story-within-a-story, written by a character, that you can read for yourself,” Valencia said slowly. “So it’s sort of like those Harry Potter textbooks Rebecca has?”

Heather considered the comparison. “Eh, yeah, I guess. But I don’t think Quidditch Through the Ages is gonna end up on a freshman’s required reading list. It’s more like bonus information than a novel in its own right.”

She closed the cabinet once more and settled on the mattress. Valencia reclined beside her. They both stared at ceiling. “The bed’s comfortable,” Valencia remarked while tapping her shoes together.

“You’re on my side, so it’s a little more broken in.” Heather folded both hands atop her stomach. “What about your old house with your parents? Did you leave things there when you got an apartment?”

“Loads, but none of it would’ve gone with the decor.” Valencia wrinkled her nose. “I kept my DVD player, though. It was the first purchase I ever made with my own cash from babysitting my sisters. Technically still my parents’ money, but it felt like a big deal at the time. There’s a butterfly sticker on it, so you can tell that thing’s been in use for ages.”

Heather rolled onto her hip. She propped herself up with her elbow. “You had a butterfly phase, huh?”

“Mm-hmm. It was almost going to be part of my first tattoo. I might still get one at some point.” Valencia touched the large robot design on Heather’s right arm. “What about this guy? Why did you want to get him?”

“His name’s Wilbur.” Heather affectionately regarded her favorite body art. “I have to be in the mood for sci-fi, but I’ve always sorta dug robots. Some of my classmates growing up spent years swearing I was one.”

Valencia’s brow furrowed.

Heather patted her own neck in explanation. “The voice. Not a lot of rise and fall.”

Valencia turned onto her side. “They made fun of you?”

“Kids come up with random stuff and it just sticks.” Heather lifted her eyebrows with indifference. “It’s not a very solid insult when you think about it. Robots are basically programmed to be smarter than humans. They process things quicker. They’re helpful. A lot of times, they’re made out of durable materials so they won’t break down. Leave it to an eight-year-old to think they’re roasting you by saying you’re a virtually indestructible genius.” She flexed to make Wilbur stand out in sharp relief. “Plus, look how nice he is. Who wouldn’t wanna be like this dude?”

Valencia studied the robot. Her eyes traveled up to Heather’s profile. “No one worth talking to.”

Heather met her stare and smiled. Valencia sat up and checked the corners of the room. “So where are all your instruments?”

“... My what now?”

“The display downstairs made it seem like you might’ve played a few,” Valencia elaborated. “Do you keep them in here?”

“Oh, right.” Heather nodded. “Those are scattered. A lot are in closets, but the upright piano is still in that nook by the top of the stairs between some potted plants. Mom sorts the mail on top of it.”

“Can I see it?”

“Sure.”

The exterior required some minor dusting but all-in-all the piano remained in good shape. Valencia sat on the left half of the bench and ghosted her palm across the keys. She turned to look up at Heather, who remained standing.

“Do you remember how to play anything?”

Heather settled on the other end of the cushion. Valencia scooted to give her adequate room, although the limited space meant they were thigh-to-thigh. “Honestly, I quit my lessons so early that I was still on scales. Then I went through a period when my friends started a band where I kinda got interested again. Performing with the group didn’t work out, but I did at least pick up one of those old-timey standards they teach beginners.”

Valencia bit her lip and wriggled with excitement. “Can you try it now?”

Heather chuckled. “Dude, it’s seriously nothing impressive. I Googled the lyrics once and it turns out the non-instrumental version is sentimental as fuck.”

“I like sentiment sometimes. Besides, it’s not like you’re going to sing, too. Unless you are. Which would be fine.” She offered Heather a persuasive grin. “Entertain me.”

Heather groaned. All it took was a single whispered plea from Valencia and she caved. “All right. But no singing. Also, you’re gonna have to help me. It’s supposed to be played by two people.”

Valencia clapped. “A performance and a class. You should be charging me. I’m totally screwing you out of multiple paychecks.”

“Psh, tell you what: if it doesn’t make your ears bleed, I’ll take a five out of your Chan Ban savings. Then we’ll call it square.”

Valencia giggled. “Deal.”

Heather took Valencia’s hands in hers and placed them on the keys. She overlapped their fingers to demonstrate the correct placement. Valencia’s chest pressed into Heather’s arm as she observed the lesson. Heather cleared her throat.

“Your portion is simpler, but there is some back and forth. So, it’s basically gonna go buh-ba-duh-duh four times before I come in, okay? It starts here for the first.” She pushed the pads of her fingers against Valencia’s nails. “Then here.” A shift and further contact. “Here.” A third demonstration. “And then here.” Heather helped Valencia test the fourth and final. “And you’ll just keep doing those four over and over while I’m taking care of the things at the higher end.”

“Okay.” Valencia stared at the piano for a second then twisted back to Heather with a wince. “Show me again?”

Heather smiled patiently. “No problem. I’ll keep practicing with you until you’re comfortable on your own.”

They ran through Valencia’s half of the song at least a dozen times, laughing and leaning into each other all the while. Eventually, Valencia made it through a repetition unaided.

“That was it! I actually sounded right.” Valencia bounced in her seat. “You’re really good at this.”

“If only my instructor could see me now,” Heather drawled. “Now, my part goes like this.”

She played her entire half. The movements were slower than they would be once familiarity returned, but it gave her a chance to let the music resurface after so long away from the effort. Valencia watched with rapt attention.

“Whoa. Glad I didn’t sit on the right. I picked the correct side of the piano for my skill level.”

Heather snorted. “I would never throw you into the deep end before you were ready.”

“I appreciate that.”

Heather rubbed her palms across the denim over her kneecaps. “So, are you ready try this thing together?”

Valencia gave a nod with almost comical gravity. “Let’s do it.”

She sat a little straighter and began. Heather waited for the introduction and then accompanied her seamlessly.

“Aah!” Valencia shrieked without breaking the flow. “This is happening!”

“You’ve got it,” Heather encouraged.

“What is the song called? I’ve heard it so often, but they don’t usually say the name before or after when it’s in movies.”

“Heart and Soul,” Heather answered. She grimaced. “I told you it was corny.”

Valencia made a dismissive sound. “It’s happy.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Heather continued to participate on autopilot. Her gaze drifted to her partner. She lingered over everything -- the bend in Valencia’s knuckles with each note, the way the sleeves of her blouse clung above the crook of her arms, the gold heart pendant nestled against her clavicle, the smile on her lips and the light in her eyes.

“Dinner’s ready.”

Heather jumped and her hands fell away from the keys. “Mom! We didn’t hear you come up.”

“Oh, that’s all right, honey. You were playing together so beautifully.” Mrs. Davis squeezed Valencia’s shoulder. “You must have the magic touch, sweetheart. She hasn’t visited this part of herself in years.”

Mrs. Davis rubbed her daughter’s back in passing and then disappeared down the stairs again. Valencia and Heather stood, leaving the piano behind to go enjoy their meal.

“You know what?” Valencia prefaced while they made their way to the landing. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get accidentally startled before.”

Heather felt a blush creep up the back of her neck and fan across her shoulder blades. “You saw that?”

"Yep.” Valencia laughed, though not unkindly. “You must’ve lost yourself in the music, huh?”

Heather focused her attention on the descent and the banister, but she couldn’t resist a quick glance at Valencia once they left the enclosed stairwell. “Yeah, I guess I was really feeling it.”

#H+V FF #CEG Writing by Me #Helencia #Heather x Valencia #Two words: Labor. Day.#I HAVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG FOR THIS ONE. :D

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